Emerald City
by tromana
Summary: Two perceptions of reality - one right, one wrong. Who is the one wearing rose-tinted glasses? AU Post 2x05. Jane/Lisbon friendship-ish. Written for boutondor in the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** So this is another Summer Secret Santa fic for boutondor. Yes, I said I have a lot. It's going to take me a fairly long while to post all this. But hey, I have company now who slows down my writing so it's win/win, right?

Thanks to Divinia Serit for betaing.

x tromana

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**Title: **Emerald City  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **Two perceptions of reality, one right, one wrong. Who was the one wearing rose-tinted glasses? AU Post 2x05  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Written for boutondor in the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa. Beta'd by Divinia Serit.

**Emerald City**

_Rose tint my world, keep me safe from my trouble and pain  
_Floorshow, _The Rocky Horror Show_

**Prologue**

And this is what happened:

It's dark and dingy down by the docks at night. Well, it is all the time, but when it's dark, even more so. By all regards, it's not a pleasant environment. Sensible law-abiding people avoid it. Well, would you want to mix with the low life scum attracted to that kind of area? With the drug dealers, the hookers, the gangs? The types who have their own rules, their own laws and think they are above everybody else's. Can't see the use in them. Too rigid, too callous. Don't take into account that each case is different and thus, should be treated individually. That's how the world should work, sweetheart. That's how it works down here.

Except when the cops decide it's time to intervene.

A man has been murdered recently.

A Fred Johnston. Not that his name matters too much. Not down here, anyway.

He's dead. Nothing's going to change that, no matter how many cops investigate, poking their noses in where it isn't wanted.

He probably died for a good reason as it is.

But still. A lone cop insists on working the case, even during the graveyard shift. They want redemption for dear old Fred, though nobody else particularly cares.

Not around here, anyway.

As long as this cop doesn't bother anyone else, lets them get on with their business, then they're more than welcome to waste their time. Everybody else has a far more useful way to spend the small hours of the night. It might be drinking themselves into oblivion, getting off their heads with less than legal drugs, gambling away life savings. But that's their prerogative.

As it's the prerogative of the cop to sit in the state-issue SUV, sipping periodically on coffee that is no doubt growing colder and colder by the second.

There's movement up ahead. The bust they've apparently been waiting for. Carefully, quietly, they slip out of the car and onto the cold, hard concrete of the docks. Within seconds, their gun is drawn.

Sensible, given the neighborhood and considering just how unwelcome their kind is here.

They watch, eagle-eyed as the gang draws closer. Waiting, just waiting, for the right moment. For when the ringleader gives them reason for arrest.

Because they don't want to kill. That's not their job.

"And did you see how Johnston stumbled when I shot him? Didn't see that coming, did he?"

Eyes twitch.

Not the one they expected to say that. Then again, it was surprising that any of them said something at all.

But their kind love to gloat.

Of all the ones to say it, it had to be him though, didn't it? The cop recognized him, the self-confessed perpetrator the moment he came out of the shadows.

Admittedly, it's been a long while since they last clapped eyes on one another. Both now embarrassed to be associated with their kind. They are, after all, the two opposite sides of the coin. The cop and the criminal. It's no wonder they don't want to be connected with one another.

It is very intimidating to their peers. Holds them back in their respective careers.

A warning shot is fired.

The gang scatters - except for the perp.

He recognized the cop too and is far too intrigued to leave.

He hadn't even realized that the team working the case has changed. He'd assumed it still came under narcotics' jurisdiction. After all, almost all their criminal activities was drug related. Smuggling, dealing, taking, the whole shebang. No wonder the cop has revulsion in their eyes. How someone so close - so damn close - to them could break the very rules they have sworn to uphold is beyond them.

But that's unsurprising.

Because the cop lives with a blinded view on life. The one where everyone needs to be treated the same. Not as the unique individuals that they are.

They circle each other, almost sizing one other up.

It's hard to say who has the advantage. Both builds have their benefits and weaknesses. Either could come out on top.

The cop licks their lips. Painfully dry. The skin is beginning to chap.

Not a concern though. Not as much as the man standing before them.

Both are pointing guns at one another now. Both have narrowed eyes.

"I have killed before."

"So have I."

One is proud, the other is not. One killed for fun, essentially because they wanted to. The other, to protect vulnerable people and to stop that person from killing again.

The criminal fires another shot. It goes wide, piercing the tire of the cop's car instead.

Next time, it's going to hit the cop.

Two bullets cross in the air. One finds its target. Shot, dead.

The other catches an arm, barely a graze.

It's not surprising that it's the cop that makes it out alive.

**TBC…**


	2. Part 1

**A/N:** Right. So. I apologise for being so terribly crap at updating despite having stuff to update. But it's not my fault - honest. For those who don't know, Chibi and I are internetless (excepting when we come to the library, like now) and I'm not entirely sure when that's going to change. I'll try and keep things ticking along though, I promise! And as soon as I have internet, people will know pretty much immediately. Yay.

Thanks to: lisbon69, Frogster, Famous4it, Viktorija, Jisbon4ever, phoenixmagic1 and Simonisthecuttestmentalist for reviewing the prologue and to Divinia Serit for betaing.

x tromana

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**Part One**

Some mornings were good mornings to wake Patrick Jane up.

Usually, because he was not actually asleep. He'd either be laying down, with his eyes screwed tightly shut, pretending that he was asleep and hoping that sooner or later exhaustion would take over and he wouldn't have to pretend anymore. Or, he just wouldn't be bothering with that. He'd be up, trying desperately to find something, anything to do and a distraction was always welcome. If he was 'lucky' enough to be sleeping, usually, nightmares haunted his nighttime visions and anything that could pull him away from that was good, even if it did mean complete and utter exhaustion for the next day or so.

However, this morning was not a good morning for him to be disturbed.

He was in deep sleep, rapid eye movement, whatever you wanted to call it. Some of the most restful sleep he'd gotten in weeks and he wasn't even dreaming of anything particularly horrific (quite the opposite, but what it was he wouldn't dare let anybody know), only to be pulled out of it by the piercing ring of his cell phone. Glaring at the offending object, and more importantly, the picture of the person daring to call, he took a few seconds to answer. Jane knew, vaguely, what Lisbon was going to say without her even talking to him. There wasn't exactly many reasons she could justify calling him before sunrise; the only one he knew of being a case.

Still, he obeyed instructions. Partially because he liked his reproductive organs where they were, but mainly because now he was awake, he'd have no hope of getting back to sleep once more. The damage was already done. There was no point in messing around and instead, he found himself on the road, on the way to the given destination within fifteen minutes.

He met Lisbon at the docks and she seemed to already be in a glowering mood; she was also moving her left arm a little more stiffly than usual, which was frankly, strange. Rigsby and Van Pelt were both yawning expansively too and the fervid glances suggested that despite the fact they didn't want anybody else to know, they had spent the night together. They would have to do a far better job at covering their tracks than they were currently doing if they wanted their relationship to remain under wraps. But still, Jane didn't have time to observe the young lovers, nor to work out whether or not Lisbon's arm was an actual injury or because she had slept on it funny. A body was waiting for them.

They slip into a gentle lilting conversation about nothing in particular: the weather, her plans for the weekend and the like as they wait for the coroner. Lisbon was growing irritated, he could tell immediately. Minelli had demanded that they arrived at the crime scene as soon as feasibly possible, yet they were still forbidden from actually getting on with their work. He watched as she breathed a sigh of relief as a familiar woman, just a little taller than Lisbon approached them. With a smile, she proffered a hand and Lisbon accepted it gratefully. She'd always liked Pat; the woman was professional and never phased by Jane and his antics. Lisbon always made that obvious to him and never made any attempt to hide it.

Jane followed a little behind the agents, allowing them to take the lead. After all, he was only a consultant and strictly speaking, it wasn't his job to catch the criminals, merely to advise them on what he thought was going on. Besides, he was rarely interested in what they were being informed of by the coroner as it was all dull, arduous, technical information. It didn't matter to him how many times a man was shot in the head, or how many blows a woman took to the stomach before death. He was much more interested in the scenery, the clues which lead to the lead up of the murder.

Well, usually.

This time, however, Teresa Lisbon was the most interesting thing in the general vicinity.

The moment the blue plastic covering had been pulled off of the body, all of her limbs stiffened. The crease which appeared between her eyes whenever she was irritated or stressed was suddenly present. And strangely enough, she actually looked emotional. After choking back a couple of sobs, much to the confusion of everyone present, she managed to calm herself down. Obviously, she had mentally berated herself and told herself that she had plenty of time to be upset later. She knew this man, he was close to her. He was…

"It's my brother. Thomas Lisbon," she murmured, as she bent down to take a closer look.

Well, that was a bad morning that suddenly got worse. Out of all of them, Jane was the one who understood the most about murders that were personal. For obvious reasons, naturally. He knew exactly what it was like to go through the reeling shock of seeing somebody you loved, their eyes wide open and soulless. To see their congealed blood surrounding a wound. What it was like to know that you would never be able to talk to them again, to never make up after that last fight, to never be able to hold them again.

He reached out and allowed his fingers to gently graze Lisbon's shoulder. Unsurprisingly, she shrugged it off. She was never one to accept comfort.

Even when it was blindingly obvious that her world was quickly crumbling around her.

000

Most of the time, Teresa Lisbon loved her job.

It wasn't suited to everybody - looking at dead bodies, dealing with overwrought relatives and hunting down dangerous criminals required a rather special kind of person, after all. But she was good at it and proud of the fact. Besides, there was nothing like giving answers to those who needed them the most. She understood that all too well; they never did catch who was responsible for her mother's death. Lisbon never managed to get the solace from simply knowing who it was that stole her away from her too soon and that helped her determination. The gratitude the relatives of victims showed was also greatly received, but it was the knowledge that she and her team really helped people in some way that really drove her.

Not today though.

Minelli, as stressed and desperate as ever had called her in the early morning. At four thirty-seven a.m. to be precise. A John Doe had been found by the docks, killed by a single gunshot wound to the head and none of the other units were free to investigate. All of the others which were suited to cover this case were pushed to the limit, as per usual. Not that she wasn't, what with five open cases and Patrick Jane breaking rules left, right and center. But somewhere along the line, probably due to her sleep-induced stupor, she had said yes. Yes, of course she can take on another case, no it didn't matter that there were unusual circumstances, nor the fact that any witnesses would probably be stubborn as it was more than likely to be gang-related. Of course she could have her team mobilized and ready within the hour.

That was why, at five twenty-four a.m., she found herself staring at the dead body of her younger brother, Thomas James Lisbon, more commonly known as Tommy.

Rigsby, Van Pelt and Jane all quickly murmured their apologies, but it didn't matter. Nothing they could say or do could bring him back. There was only one thing they could do: try and work out what the hell had happened. She knew there was the possibility that it was gang-related; there was a reason she rarely spoke to her brother and that was it. If it was, they were unlikely to get the funding. Nobody cared if somebody died in those circumstances. Most people thought they had it coming. To hell with the mourning relatives, the friends of the individual. If Tommy hadn't gone off the rails, had been the kind of person that toed the law, it would be a completely different scenario. She could only hope that they would work it out with the limited resources they had.

She winced slightly as she straightened, her arm causing her a little grief, though she wasn't quite sure why. It preoccupied her thoughts as the others trailed through what they had. He was armed; the other person could quite easily have shot him in self-defense. The bullet casing was removed though, which suggested the other person knew what they were doing, that they didn't want their weapon identified. Nothing much else to let them know how or why this meeting had occurred. And quite frankly, all Lisbon wanted to do was get home and get used to the fact that not only were her parents dead, but the youngest of her brothers too.

Usually, her cases meant that they were dealing with strangers, mourning the loss of their precious relative. And they came in, making promises of working out the solution, telling them they'd do their utmost to find out who the killer was.

This time, she was playing both roles and it unnerved her more than she cared to admit.

Quickly, she dismissed her team, telling them to meet at the office at eight a.m. sharp. Despite her best efforts not to, she found herself shouting angrily at Jane to leave her alone. She was absolutely in no mood for his fussing right at that very moment, but of course he was blind to the fact. He never knew when to let things go. Eventually, Rigsby pulled him away and Lisbon was left alone with her brother.

She'd never actually forgiven him for getting embroiled in gang culture.

Now, she'd never have the chance to.

All she could do was vow to work out what had happened to him in the last few minutes of his life.

With a sharp nod to Pat, she left the body of her brother and turned to walk to her car. There was no way she'd be able to sleep, but she could make sure she had a decent breakfast before heading into work. There was a little time for her to wrap her mind around the situation before she actually had to be in boss-mode and get the job done. A coffee and something to eat would do her the world of good, she decided.

Sitting in her vehicle, she took a deep breaths. This was going to be a long case, she could tell. Eventually, despite the fact it was early morning, she slipped off her jacket, feeling constricted and hot. Rolling up the sleeve of her shirt, she frowned slightly at her discovery.

When did the dressing get there and how the hell had she picked up that injury?

**TBC…**


	3. Part 2

**A/N:** Guess who has the internet back at home? Okay. So updating at this time of night makes it pretty obvious. But yay!

Thank you to: Simonisthecuttestmentalist, Famous4it, Frogster, Viktorija, autumnftw and Jisbon4ever for betaing. And to Divinia Serit for betaing.

I'm sleepy. It's getting late. Sorry for the lack of interesting author's notes.

x tromana

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**Part Two**

Bosco was late coming into work.

Normally, provided they weren't _too _busy with important cases, they stopped and had coffee for the first fifteen minutes of the day, just before they officially had to start working. It gave them a chance to catch up, let off steam and bounce ideas off one another with regards to their current cases. Besides, Lisbon had been the one to encourage him to apply when the role in Major Crimes came up and wanted to see as much as feasibly possible of her old mentor and friend. She didn't worry too much though; Bosco could quite easily have been called out on a case at the crack of dawn, just like she was. He didn't need to inform her about his each and every move.

It was just, usually, he did. Out of politeness, more than anything else and so she didn't worry, either.

With a sigh, she pulled forward the photographs that had been taken and swiftly prepared of the crime scene to refresh her memory a little. Not that she really needed to; the image had been burned onto her retina anyway. She shuddered, still not quite believing that she was looking at pictures of the dead body of her brother. But regardless of who the victim was, she still had to remain professional, try and act as if she was unaffected and make sure that whoever was responsible was brought to justice. At least talking to the relatives wasn't a problem, though she would have to let one of the others question her for routine's sake. Jane was going to have a ball with that one. Briefly, she glanced at the computer screen. The small digital clock informed her that it wasn't quite eight a.m. yet. He'd be in soon, disturbing the peace, asking where Bosco was and other impertinent questions, as he always did. As she expected, footsteps tore her from her reverie and she glanced up, expecting to see Jane and was rather surprised to see Bosco, with two Styrofoam cups in hand.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," he murmured, placing the drink down in front of her. She smiled as she picked it and inhaled the scent. "I had a flat tire."

"Managed to get it sorted, then?"

"Yeah, no thanks to the kids."

"How are they doing?" she queried, but not without taking a quick sip of her drink.

"They're…" Bosco started before shaking his head, refusing to get distracted. "No, how are you, Teresa?"

"Fine," she answered, albeit a little stiffly.

"I heard about your brother…"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Bosco immediately recognized the expression on her face - it was the one which said he was absolutely not to touch. Which meant the moment that her consultant arrived, he would do just that. There was no love lost between him and Jane, something which irritated Lisbon no end. She'd wasted countless hours trying to persuade them both that they had gotten each other wrong, but she knew that ultimately, she would have spent her time more constructively if she were to talk about each man's virtues to a pair of brick walls. She looked relieved as Bosco leaned back, obviously taking the hint. It was enough that she'd have to go through the whole death of her brother with Jane, then with the team as well and then with her other siblings. She didn't need to go through it with him as well.

It didn't matter that Thomas Lisbon had been dating Bosco's sister. There was all the time in the world to discuss that and its repercussions later. He was more than willing to let her get on with her job and come and talk to him when she saw fit.

As expected, Jane graced her threshold, almost looking disappointed to see Bosco sitting opposite Lisbon. Upon sight of the other man, Bosco seemed to see this as a sign to leave and almost instantaneously, they swapped places. Lisbon groaned slightly, pulling open a draw rather more roughly than she intended, in order to get hold of a precious tub of painkillers. The disturbed night's sleep was already getting to her and the slight tension on her forehead was a sign of worse things to come. Blatantly ignoring Jane, she swallowed down two pills along with a sip of his coffee and he frowned at her.

"Coffee's a diuretic, you know."

"Yes, and?"

"If you have a headache, it'll do you no good."

She scowled as she placed the drink back down, suddenly not in the mood for it anymore. It didn't matter anyway; she had a bottle of water underneath her desk too, stashed away for purposes such as this. She was fine and there was nothing wrong with her life. Okay, so her brother had just died but it didn't matter. It was a quick death, he wouldn't have suffered much. Besides, they virtually hated each other, so investigating his death was almost the same as investigating that of a stranger's.

Almost.

The team would query her relationship with him. They'd have to. Their dislike of one another would cast a shadow of doubt over the investigation. She knew how to shoot, how to kill. The fact that they shared a mutual loathing because of his membership of the gang which provided her with motive. And she'd been alone, in bed, last night which provided her with no alibi as well.

It was like McTeer all over again.

Lisbon had had enough of people doubting her, of accusing her of murder. It was getting a little petty, a little ridiculous. Surely she'd proven her worth by now? She was one of the good guys. She was the one who banged criminals up in jail, she wasn't one of them.

Jane smiled brightly at her and half of her expected a repeat of the brief conversation she had just had with Bosco. Irritated, she glanced at her computer screen, hoping that her e-mail inbox would bring her a shred of good news, unlike the rest of the world.

Instead, he just asked if he could have the case files, to see if he could see something in the photographs that he missed at the crime scene. He did, however, catch sight of the white gauzing when she handed over the requested information and her shirt sleeve rode up ever so slightly. Quickly, she braced herself for the impending questioning: when did she hurt herself, what happened, how serious was the wound. And considering she didn't even know the answer to one of those questions, it was a little troubling. However, rather uncharacteristically, he just murmured his thanks and disappeared.

She leaned back, relieved. Maybe the day wouldn't be quite as bad as she was expecting it to be.

000

Though Lisbon had dismissed him and the team, Jane didn't bother going straight back home. What was the point? There was nothing left waiting for him there. Just a few packed boxes, most of which he had no intention of emptying, minimal furniture and dust. He didn't care much for cleaning either. As he was the only person who lived in that boxy little flat and he avoided spending as much time there as feasibly possible, it meant it was generally a waste of time. Time which could be spent far more constructively, whether that be working on current cases, trying to find out something, anything, about the Red John case or working out what was going on inside the minds of his colleagues.

And that was what he was doing this specific morning.

Rigsby and Van Pelt were doing a poor job of hiding their fledgling relationship. That was unsurprising; their young love was blossoming and they probably wanted to shout it from the rooftops, especially Rigsby. Instead, they were being forced to keep it under wraps, pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was happening simply to save their skins and their jobs. It was a sad situation, but it they wanted to continue seeing one another, something was going to happen sooner or later. One of them would have to leave the unit. Or they would have to cease their activities and there would be heartbreak all around.

That wasn't particularly bothering Jane too much this morning though. It was an ongoing problem, yes, but it was also one that hadn't exactly piqued his interest. Something was going to happen to the young lovers, but it didn't seem like anything imminent was. Unless they did something completely reckless like starting kissing right underneath Lisbon's nose. Luckily enough for them, their boss was delightfully romantically naïve and wouldn't know what a relationship was even if it bit her on the nose.

Lisbon.

That was his conundrum this morning.

He knew she wasn't on the best of terms with one of her brothers. Though she would vehemently deny it, it was always obvious. She spoke about the other two to him intermittently, despite her strict colleagues only regime. Jane smiled; obviously that was a rule he had subverted without her realization. Besides, he could have worse friends than her, a lot worse, in fact.

But the last time he'd seen that haunted expression on her face, they had been looking down at the dead body of a pedophile that she had caught. Except, of course, this was a relative and she was acting as if nothing had happened. Well, not nothing, more that her brother could have been any old victim. That she wasn't emotionally involved, that her biggest problem was going to be working out who the perpetrator was from the scant clues left behind. His concern for her reaction, or lack thereof, was still at the forefront of his mind as he wandered back into the CBI headquarters. Just what had happened between her and Thomas to cause her to virtually cut him out of her life? Almost automatically, his feet led him straight to Lisbon's office, where she was sat chatting to Bosco. She seemed irritated with him though, which was unusual. Normally, she was scowling because he was disturbing them instead.

He escaped her as soon as possible; it seemed she wasn't just in an irritable mood with Bosco and it spread onto him as well. Clutching the file tightly, he briefly considered the dressing on her arm. Of course he wanted to ask her about it, but he wasn't willing to poke the starving lion either. Lisbon looked desperate to snap at somebody and Jane, though he enjoyed taking risks, wasn't a complete and utter idiot. Instead, he chose to settle on the couch and do a little light reading. Case files weren't always the most illuminating of material, but it was better than nothing. Besides, he wanted a swift resolution, if only for Lisbon's sake. The sooner she could put this behind her, like the other recent case she had personal connections to, the better. Then, he could start thinking about the Bosco debacle again. His hands were itching to get hold of the Red John files again, to find out whatever new information the agent had uncovered, but of course, that wasn't possible. All he had was the scant information he could hear over the bug and that had to do.

The others soon appeared and were soon working, with Cho and Rigsby disappearing off to talk to Cathie Bosco. Jane would normally have gone with them, but frankly, thought it was a dead end. Anyway, Lisbon was far more fascinating than Samuel Bosco Junior's younger sister. The senior agent made it quite clear that she didn't want to be disturbed just yet, that she wasn't ready to talk about her brother. Though she knew it was stalling the investigation and they did too, none of them wanted to force her to talk. If anything, they were doubting whether or not they should be working the case at all. After an hour's silent work, Jane noticed Van Pelt break out into a small smile after finishing on the phone to somebody. Intrigued, he couldn't help but follow her into Lisbon's office. There was nothing happening elsewhere and if Van Pelt could get their boss to talk, then that would be even better. By trying to find out the names of gang members and the like, the young woman was just wasting time, waiting until her boss had pulled herself together again. Waiting until she was ready to actually deal with the problem head on instead of dusting it under the rug.

Lisbon looked up expectantly as Van Pelt tapped on the door and they both filed in in silence. The brunette looked worse than she had done earlier; like she had been deprived of a whole night's sleep rather than just a couple of hours in the early morning. There was clearly something she wasn't willing to talk about. Last time that happened, she was barely hours away from being arrested herself. Jane didn't want to give it the chance to get that messy again.

"CSI just got back to me."

"And?"

"The skid marks? They suggest that one of the tires was deflated."

"Well what's…" Lisbon trailed off.

Jane looked at her quizzically. Obviously, she'd made a rather interesting connection that he didn't know about.

**TBC…**


	4. Part 3

**A/N** Yay. Trying to update and being attacked by an eleven week old kitten. I keep trying to tell her there's other very interesting people in the house, but for some reason, she just doesn't want to listen. Oh well.

Thank you to: Jisbon4ever, Famous4it and autumnftw for reviewing Part Two. It is much appreciated. :-

x tromana

* * *

**Part Three**

Jane listened with amusement as Cho recounted the information they had. Apparently, Cathie hadn't been that impressed with Tommy's involvement in the gang, something which Jane could have told them before they'd even met the woman. Who would be, unless she was another gang member herself? And being Bosco's sister made that highly unlikely too. Then again, Tommy was not only related to, but essentially brought up by Lisbon so there was some flawed logic there, but it didn't bother him too much. Rigsby quickly mentioned how she had been placing pressure on him to leave, to become a responsible member of society, something which the agent clearly approved of. It reminded Jane a little of his past, of the way his wife had begged him to leave the psychic trail. Though, instead of it being him who paid the price, it was his wife and daughter. Of course, it could have been a reason for her to kill Tommy. A flimsy one though, if she loved the man as much as the others had said, but still, it was a motive of sorts. A woman who loved a man and wanted to save him from himself generally didn't murder him. They looked for other ways to 'rescue' them instead. He knew that all too well from experience.

Gently, he nudged Lisbon with his shoulder. She was slowly drifting off into herself again, probably unwittingly. He'd been watching her concentration slip as the morning came and went, popping his head around her door occasionally, just to see if she was okay. It was unsurprising that she had been doing that a lot during the past few hours, while they waited for Cho and Rigsby to get back. Probably trying to adjust to all the recent developments, to try and cope with it all. Was still reeling from the shock of it all. Again, it was something he recognized, something he was familiar with. But Lisbon wasn't him, he quickly reminded himself. She was stronger than he was and wouldn't be weak enough to have a breakdown.

Or at least, he genuinely hoped that was the case, because the alternative was quite worrisome.

But that injury was troubling him too. Especially as the fleeting look of confusion on her face every time she glanced down at her arm suggested that she wasn't even sure what happened. She hadn't offered an explanation either; normally, to stop him from questioning her incessantly, she managed to cobble together some excuse in order to shut him up. Shaking his head, he dismissed it as stress, for now at least. Until he had a better explanation anyway, one where she wasn't hiding everything from him in order to protect herself. After all, Teresa Lisbon did have a stressful job, even more so when investigating a crime so closely connected to her personal life. Jane didn't doubt that it was like her every nightmare coming true; there was a clash of her personal and professional existences and there was nothing she could do to separate them. Regardless of what she did, whatever the conclusion was, everybody was going to learn far more of their boss than she ever wanted. And Jane couldn't help but be gleeful for the fact. Though it was hypocritical, he couldn't wait for some of the smoke and mirrors to be removed and see just how many of his assumptions about his boss were correct.

"Are you ready to talk about Tommy, Boss?" Cho asked tentatively and everyone looked at her immediately.

Jane smirked. She somehow looked rather sweet when coming under their intense gazes, rather than formidable. It made for a nice contradiction compared to usual. She'd almost been over thinking about things as Cho and Rigsby updated her about Cathie. There was something on her mind, possibly a continuation of the thoughts about their perpetrator having a flat tire as they fled the scene. Obviously, she wasn't willing to reveal all just yet and Jane found it infuriating. Maybe this was how she felt every time he came up with a brilliant plan and neglected to tell her each and every nuance about it? He shrugged his shoulders as she nodded somewhat tentatively. At least she was finally ready to let the case move on a little further. It would also get it over and done with before they went out to try and track down Tommy's gang. That'd be interesting too, he surmised. Then again, considering it was an opportunity to learn so much more about Lisbon handed over to him on a silver platter, he found it all interesting.

With a sigh, she explained her history with Tommy as quickly as she could and Jane especially hung on her every word. How she'd been the one responsible for him from the age of twelve, how he'd fallen into gang membership as early as fifteen. How she'd disowned him by the time she was thirty. Van Pelt looked horrified at Lisbon's flippant disregard of her brother; the younger woman appreciated the importance of family and seeing Lisbon talk about Tommy as though he were a stranger hurt her. She knew that, deep down, the woman had to care about what happened to him - the way she was reacting was evidence enough, but still. The red head just couldn't imagine anything being a big enough reason for her to want to cut out a member of her own family, or even a member of the team, however. Lisbon's reaction didn't phase Jane though; his family life had always been far from normal. He just hoped that this new information wouldn't phase Van Pelt too much. She worshipped the ground that Lisbon walked on and Jane saw no reason for that to stop. Not yet, anyway. Lisbon still acted like an exemplary boss - she just had problems controlling him on occasion.

"You do know that you have motive?" Cho prompted and Lisbon nodded. "Where were you last night between the hours of eleven p.m. and two a.m.?"

"You don't really think I could have done it? Cho? Really?"

"Of course not," he answered smoothly and though Lisbon didn't seem all that comforted by the fact. "Still, for routine's sake?"

"I was in bed. Sleeping. I had an early night."

"Is there anyone that can verify that?"

"No."

Jane didn't say anything, but he knew she was lying through her teeth.

000

She couldn't help it. She was beginning to think that Bosco might just be responsible.

Like Lisbon, he'd never approved of Tommy and his decisions regarding his life. And the fact that he had been dating his little sister had almost been like salt in the wound. She may have been able to cut him out, but Bosco still had to tolerate seeing him on occasion. Sometimes, during their morning coffee routine, he'd update her on how he was doing. Inform her that he was still alive. And that was enough for Lisbon; knowing that he was still alive. She didn't want to know anything about the scrapes he got into, the problems he caused, the drugs he was taking. But Bosco hated the fact that he toyed with his sister, threatened to drag her down with him. She'd heard on countless occasions just how much it concerned him. Lisbon knew that it wasn't a slight at her, for there was nothing she could do to control her brother, it was just him looking out for the welfare of his only sibling.

And that could easily provide him with motive.

Besides, Pat's report was due relatively soon, but even without it, she knew that it would say he was killed by an experienced marksman (or woman). Bosco was one of the best she knew. And what with that flat tire… it just fit. Uncomfortably so.

Still, it could easily have been self-defense, he was armed. No cop would get murder one if his life was under threat, even if he wasn't on duty. Maybe voluntary manslaughter though. That would mean he'd get three, maybe five years, tops. And that was without even considering parole. Though, being a cop in jail… she shuddered slightly. That was never a pretty idea. She'd been forced to consider it, what with having been accused of William McTeer's murder left, right and center. If it hadn't been for Jane working out that the bastard had been drugging her, she wouldn't know where she'd be right now. And now, Bosco could be facing the same thing. If her suspicions were correct, of course. Lisbon genuinely hoped she wasn't; she respected her ex-mentor too much and didn't want that sense of trust to be destroyed (again). Far too many people had let her down far too many times. She honestly didn't know whether or not she could cope with it happening yet again.

She jumped as Jane nudged her slightly and remembered where she was and what she was meant to be doing. Her heart sank as Cho asked her if she was ready to speak about her brother and she nodded. There was no point in putting off the inevitable much longer. Though, she had hoped that she'd just be talking to Cho, not the whole team and especially Jane. She trusted Cho not to divulge her secrets, even in such a crucial case. But she couldn't send them away without seeming juvenile, and possibly even guilty, so she let them sit in. Cho's accusation shook her a little. As she suspected, this was feeling like it was turning into the McTeer debacle all over again. Was she really untrustworthy enough for people to suspect her of murder time and time again? And if so, why the hell was she still in a job?

Eventually, she dismissed them, insisting that they meet up early in the morning to face Tommy's gang. That was going to be an interesting job and it meant they all had to had their wits about them. Besides, the day was slowly disappearing and it wouldn't be all that long until clocking off time. Once they'd managed to get all the names of gang members and looked at their rap sheets, there would be little point in heading out to question them. It was better that they went home and rested for the inevitable incursion. She knew enough about Tommy's gang to know just how much they distrusted cops.

Besides, giving the others paperwork to do meant that she could slip out to question Bosco. Lisbon knew that Amanda was unwell and that meant Bosco was responsible for looking after the kids. He'd been taking half days in order to cover for his wife's illness and that meant, already, he'd be picking them up from school. With a few rushed words to the team, mentioning nothing specific because she really didn't want their company, she slipped out. She just hoped it was enough to shake off Jane though. Or that he was already asleep and therefore wouldn't disturb her.

She grinned as she made it to her car unscathed and was soon on her way. She knew this route all too well now. Amanda Bosco was keen to almost adopt her as a part of their family and there were only so many times she could turn down the invite. Besides, the drive was relaxing her and she needed a break from the office. What she didn't need, however, was problems with her car and Lisbon scowled as she heard a tell-tale bang followed by the thump of a flat tire.

"Damn it," she hissed under her breath, turned on the blinkers and pulled over.

This was the last thing she needed. Though she knew Amanda wouldn't mind her turning up unannounced, she was hoping to catch him before he got home. She really didn't want his wife to know she suspected him of murder. What with her brother and Jane constantly acting weirder than usual on top of that, her patience wad wearing thin. She smirked slightly at the coincidence as she clambered out of her car. Just over twelve hours earlier, Bosco was having to do the exact same thing while being bothered by two boisterous pre-teens. At least she knew what she was doing; she'd always prided herself with being self-sufficient. So many women were completely hopeless at dealing with minor problems with their cars, but she'd insisted upon being the exception to that rule. Even the frowns of confusion from men watching a petite brunette deal with a SUV amused her more than bothered her. With practiced ease, she swiftly opened the trunk to get out the spare tire. Pulling back the carpet, she frowned.

The spare was flat as well.

**TBC…**


	5. Part 4

**A/N:** I've decided my laptop is not a morning laptop. It has a magic trick where it unexpectedly cuts out - but is fine within an hour. Only thing is, it plays this trick more often in the morning than in the evening. Strange, huh? At least it's okay now so I can actually update this thing now.

Anyway. Enough of my computer's magic tricks. A huge thank you to: autumnftw, Famous4it, shadow, Frogster and Jisbon4ever for reviewing part three. Especially so to shadow, who not only logged in anonymously but said the kindest of words. Please don't fail your University course, though! I don't want that hanging over my head! Thanks also to Divinia Serit for betaing despite being so busy. You totally rock.

x tromana

* * *

**P****art Four**

The man with the pick up truck was patronizing. Of course, he just assumed she was a typically ditzy woman, completely incapable of roadside repairs, when that couldn't be much further from the truth. She scowled continually at him as he explained the importance of making sure the spare tire wasn't flat before setting off on a journey. There was no need for him to act as if she were dense and she couldn't help but smirk when he discovered the spare wasn't just flat, but punctured as well. It wasn't really her fault either; the upkeep of the vehicle was the responsibility of the CBI, so she did have a habit of assuming everything would be fine. When she finally arrived home, she tried to remain optimistic about it. At least she didn't have to talk to Bosco in front of any family member now - she could do that before they headed out to talk to the gang in the morning.

Her house was reassuringly quiet. If she had the time and energy, she'd have unpacked the boxes in the corner by now. Lisbon moved into this place well over two years ago, but somehow she always managed to put it off. There was always something better, far more constructive to do, even if that were simply sleeping. The kettle whistled enthusiastically, temporarily destroying the peace. There was nothing like a cup of roobois to relax with after a stressful day. After preparing the hot drink, she slipped off her shoes and curled up on her couch, with her bare feet tucked neatly underneath her. Finally, a few seconds of peace and quiet. Time to think things through properly.

She was being irrational; Bosco couldn't be any more guilty of killing her brother than _she_ was. It was all coincidence. Lisbon, having had a bit of time to think, realized she was clutching at straws because she wanted the damn thing closed. Because she wanted to call up her other two brothers and have the answers seconds after they found out that Tommy had died. That was what she did: provided answers. If she couldn't tell them what had happened immediately, she would feel like she had messed up somehow, even more so than she already did. After all, she never managed to stop him from joining the gang in the first place. That was her first failure. Lisbon knew that she owed it to all of them to get the answers from where she had gone so horribly wrong.

A knock at the door startled her from her reverie. There wasn't anyone she particularly expected to come knocking, especially at this kind of hour. Curious, Lisbon placed the mug of tea down on her coffee table and rose to her feet. She rarely had cold callers and besides, even if she did, she knew how to deal with them anyway. Her badge was normally enough to send them running. As she opened the door slightly, her heart sank to see Patrick Jane standing behind it. Quickly, she closed it tightly shut once more to release the chain. She should have known. Jane always disturbed her whenever she least wanted to see him; it was one of his more irritating habits. And anyway, she knew it would be impossible to send him away. He didn't find her intimidating, merely amusing. Rather like a toy to a cat - something to be played with for a while until it ceased to be entertaining any longer.

"What do you want, Jane?"

"To see how you are."

"I'm fine."

"Your brother was shot to death."

"Nobody's immortal."

"Teresa…"

"I think you should leave now, Jane."

"I've only just arrived."

"Unannounced. I had plans."

"What? Reading 'The Nature of Leadership' for the fourth time before another early night?"

"Fifth, actually."

"So you know it cover to cover then. I'm not disturbing anything."

Ignoring the pleading look on her face, Jane settled on her couch and even had the audacity to take a sip of her tea. He grimaced slightly - clearly it wasn't to his taste. Not that it'd stop him drinking it; she knew what he was like. He acted fussy about tea to make a bit of a scene, but was really quite happy to drink whatever came his way. Dejectedly, she flopped down beside him, hoping he'd grow bored soon. She was tired and it had been a long day. The last thing she needed was to entertain Jane for several hours until he realized just how much of an ass he was being and disappeared.

"You have a theory about who killed your brother."

"I'd like a few hours without having to think about it, you know."

She stole the mug from his hands and out of principle, drained it. He glared at her and pouted, acting as if she had committed some kind of cardinal sin. Lisbon didn't care though. She just wanted him out of her home.

"So you're not going to elaborate then?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's probably wrong."

"You don't know that. If we…"

"No."

"What about your arm, then?" he replied, changing tack. "What happened?"

She shrugged.

"Lisbon…"

"I must have fallen or something. It happens. Are you going to go now?"

Lisbon narrowed her eyes slightly. Jane was going to be the death of her one day, especially if he intended to keep up these impromptu visits. Ever since she'd had to let him into her apartment for her own sanity's sake, he seemed to have taken that as invite to come and go as he pleased. That was particularly irritating. Jane was the exact reason why she craved the separation of her professional and private lives as whenever he was around, she just couldn't switch off. If he kept it up today, she knew she wouldn't be responsible for her own actions. When he nodded, apparently giving up, she breathed an audible sigh of relief. It was good to finally be able to get rid of him.

Only problem was, he'd dragged the issues she'd managed to temporarily bury for the night right back to the forefront of her mind.

000

Jane didn't like it when Lisbon went all quiet and subversive on him. It seemed wrong for someone who was such an open book like her to even bother to attempt to hide things from him. It wasn't that she didn't have her secrets - he knew she had plenty of things that she kept well under wraps - but it was the things that she actively tried to hide that bothered him somewhat. Her honesty, whether intentional or not, was one of the things that he admired most about her - probably because it was the polar opposite of what he himself was like.

That was why her vague excuses when leaving work early particularly bothered him. Normally, if they had a priority case, she wouldn't let anything distract her. Though this one wasn't of particular importance to the CBI - the gang connections deeming it of less importance - it was of personal interest. So seeing her skulk off, alone, citing that she needed to talk to a relative about another open case was downright absurd, especially when she could have set one of the others on the cause just as easily. Jane knew that he could have chased her down to the parking lot, propositioned her about it there and then, but there was little point. She would have just becoming incredibly infuriated and as a consequence, he wouldn't have been able to get anything of use from her.

Instead, he was standing on her doorstep at nine p.m., waiting patiently for her to actually get around to answering the door.

She was probably torn between hoping that he'd just get bored and go away or opening the door to try and get rid of him that way. Invading her privacy probably wasn't that much of a better plan compared to talking to her earlier, but at least within the confines of her own home, her defenses would be a little lower. Lisbon might actually manage to open up just a little bit more too. It was the one place she felt secure enough to agree to let him hypnotize her, after all. Not that he was planning to do anything of the sort again. Well not yet, anyway. That was always saved until last resort, contrary to her beliefs. Or rather, it wasn't something he set out to do with every problematic person he dealt with.

Not that Lisbon was a problem in the normal sense, anyway.

Her home was messier than beforehand and she was clearly embarrassed by the fact. It didn't bother him too much though. She was so neat and tidy at work, that it was nice to see she wasn't quite so restrictive in her personal life. Jane grinned as she allowed him in without so much as a word and only started questioning his motives once the door was firmly closed. She was tired, very much so and it was clear she had a lot on her mind. As with earlier, Lisbon was cagey, despite the fact she was trying to put a brave face on it all. What worried him was the fact that she clearly wasn't reacting to the fact that her brother, one of the three men she had no choice but to bring up, had died.

And that arm injury, of course. She still didn't seem to know what was going on with that. Lisbon was so meticulous about anything and everything that gaps in her knowledge were rather disconcerting.

Eventually, he frowned and gave up. Clearly, she wasn't in the mood to talk and he wasn't going to force it either. Besides, his head was hurting; there was a pressure building in his temples - a sign of an impending migraine. Jane didn't suffer from them that often, certainly not as often as the woman whose home he'd just gate crashed, but it was still an irritation. Deciding that that was a sign to accept her whims, he stood and bid her farewell. It seemed like she believed that he was leaving for her sake and that was probably a good thing. If he even gave the slightest hint of being ill, he knew what would happen. Lisbon's overprotective streak would immediately start kicking in and she would try to mother him. And realistically, she should be keeping an eye on her own health rather than worrying about him.

The night time breeze was cool on his face and a blessed relief. Normally, bed rest was what was prescribed for those with migraines. Never worked for him though; laying tossing and turning in bed usually managed to make things worse before they got better. Probably because he grew so frustrated actually trying to get to sleep that the stress had to come out somehow. Instead, he walked. Trying desperately to think about what was going on to ignore the stabbing pain in his head and the fact the ground appeared to be shaking just a little. They'd go away soon enough, by morning if he was lucky. If not, he'd just have to pretend nothing was wrong. He was good at that. Besides, that wasn't the most troubling issue. There was something in the case he was missing, something important. Like a jigsaw puzzle with a few of the most crucial pieces missing.

And that annoyed him. It probably also did no good for his head either.

Through no control of his own, he eventually landed up at CBI headquarters. The walk had only taken an hour or so. Jane nodded briefly at the security guard, Steve, who smiled genially in response. Steve was always lax when it came to letting Jane into the headquarters in the small hours of the night and Jane appreciated his understanding. He wandered upstairs, not bothering with the elevator; its noises seemed too loud, especially in a near-empty building. Quietly, he slinked over to Lisbon's office, pushed open the door and sat behind her desk.

Why was she so emotionally repressed when it came to Tommy? What was it that had caused the rift between them?

**TBC…**


	6. Part 5

**A/N:** Before I forget, the 2010 Jellies are here! Anyone registered to the forum who wants to nominate, just send me a PM on there and I'll get straight back to you. Well, if I'm awake and online I will. If not, I'll message you as soon as possible.

Thank you to: Viktorija, autumnftw, Frogster, Jisbon4ever and Famous4it for reviewing part four. It's much appreciated.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Five**

He still had the migraine when he woke up, which he found overwhelmingly annoying. Normally, the solitude of the bullpen at night was enough for him to be able to sleep it off, but obviously that wasn't the case today. Still, it could have been worse, he decided. At least a migraine was easy for him to hide - he could have had it a lot worse - at least he could somehow operate them, unlike the majority of sufferers. He also knew how to be convincing enough to persuade others that he was absolutely fine. Unlike Lisbon, of course, who was ridiculously obvious despite claims otherwise.

He'd managed to get absolutely no answers out of her last night, which was unusual in itself. Normally it didn't take too long for her to get frustrated with him and spill all and he'd expected that the invasion of her privacy would have made her do just that, if only to try to get rid of him sooner. Instead, she just kept hiding things from him and that worried him. Though, he did genuinely believe she had no idea how she'd picked up her arm wound. She wouldn't have the energy to lie about it twice, would she? So, she was either blanking something out or it compromised her position and it was forcing her to cover up something. Neither situation seemed that promising and he wished he knew more about why she wouldn't actually talk to him. Whatever happened couldn't be that bad, could it? Maybe just a fight with her brother before his death leaving her with a minor injury? That would be something she'd want to cover up, wouldn't it?

Jane was relieved that the aura stopped causing him havoc by the time the rest of the team arrived at work. At least it felt like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel - and it stopped the bright sunshine pouring in from the windows from hurting his eyes any longer. He smiled briefly when he saw Lisbon was already in her office, her head hunched over a sheet of paperwork. It wasn't unusual for him to find her in such a position, but it was weird that he hadn't even noticed her arrive. Jane disregarded it quickly though, blaming it on his poor health. But that wouldn't be so much of a problem now; he had something to focus on, something to ensure he could ignore the thumping headache. Besides, they would be going out soon and he would have new people to psychoanalyze. That was always good fun and an ideal distraction for him.

He was about to get up when Lisbon came storming over and kicked the end of his couch. Clearly, she was already in a foul mood. Hardly surprising; it was probably carrying over from last night to be fair. Jane also knew that she desperately wanted this case closed and fast, if only for personal reasons. Though she hadn't vocalized it, the injury was plaguing her thoughts as well. Could he persuade her to let him put her in a light trance again, just to see if they could work out what was going on? Unlikely, but he knew it might be worth bringing up later, just in case. He couldn't write it off until he'd at least tried, anyway. And if nothing else, it might plant the seed in her mind and then she might just approach him about it again, like the last time she was having problems with her memory. In saying that, that could be the exact problem. One of the many side effects of withdrawal from lorazepam was short term memory loss.

"Well, you're in a cheerful mood, aren't you?"

"I'm fine."

Jane raised a skeptical eyebrow as he followed her to the elevator. 'I'm fine' was pretty much her stock response to any question regarding her general well-being and she should have known that by now, it wasn't going to convince him that she actually was as well as she claimed to be. Besides, even her tone gave her away; it was a shade higher than her normal responses and a blatant attempt to sound a little too cheerful. If he had been feeling just a shade better, he would have taken it up with her. Instead, he decided to conserve his energy. They had some questioning to do - him more than her as she was still oblivious to the fact that he was going to carry on needling her for answers until he was happy with her responses.

The journey was mercifully swift and quiet. Jane still hadn't the energy to converse as freely as usual and he suspected that Lisbon enjoyed the reprieve as well. She was probably quite suspicious of it as well, though. Then again, whenever his behavior deviated ever so slightly from the normal, she grew disconcerted, so that wasn't saying much. Dealing with the gang was less simple, but it only took the threat of taking them back to headquarters and mentioning the possibility of pressing charges for them to settle. Within half an hour, they were sitting in a dingy office, Lisbon with her notepad out and a random gang member, Pierre, sitting nervously in front of them.

"How well did you know Thomas?"

Pierre shrugged. "Fairly well, I s'pose."

"Was his behavior anything out of the norm? Is it unusual for him to get involved in fights?" Lisbon ploughed on, seemingly determined to get something useful out of him.

"Well the Tom-meister, he's always getting involved in shootouts and crap, isn't he? Didn't think anything odd of it, except…"

"Except?"

"Except it was with a cop, wasn't it?" he spat, glaring at both Jane and Lisbon. "Bastards, the lot of them. Uh, no offense."

"None taken," Jane replied lightly, smiling tightly and glancing over at Lisbon, trying to measure her response. She didn't seem all that bothered, probably because she'd expected it.

"Have you any more useful information than just 'a cop'?"

"They all the look the same to me," he replied with a shrug, but decided to elaborate when faced with the hard gaze of Lisbon. "I dunno, smallish maybe? I ran as soon as they started shooting."

000

Lisbon glanced in the mirror with a heavy sigh. She looked tired, but then again that wasn't exactly an unusual thing; she always looked tired these days. When she'd visited her doctor, he'd warned her about this. Told her that she was likely to suffer from insomnia as she stopped taking the lorazepam and slowly managed to get it out of her system. Apparently, it would have been too dangerous just to stop taking it and she cursed the way it continued to mess up her system. As she applied her makeup, she quietly hoped that Jane would behave himself for a change. She could do without his brand of mayhem, if only for one day. It was wishful thinking, but it was better to live in hope than remain pessimistic all the while.

She met with Bosco, as usual, first thing in the morning. Despite her intentions less than twelve hours ago, she didn't bother to bring up her suspicions. What was the point? Lisbon knew there was little point in risking a friendship just because of a few unusual circumstances. If she had some cold, hard evidence that pointed in his direction then maybe, just maybe, she would change her mind. Instead, she decided she was just going to leave it alone and try to relax. She'd been too tense lately and if she wasn't careful, she'd make herself ill. Well, more ill than she already felt. Some sleep would be nice, but that seemed as elusive as ever.

Just half an hour later, she found herself taking out her frustrations on Jane's couch. It always felt good to kick the ugly leather monstrosity in order to get his attention. Besides, if he didn't want her to resort to violence, he shouldn't be napping on work hours. It was bad enough that he slept there overnight - she wasn't naïve, she knew that he did just that - never mind sleeping when he was being paid to work as well. He looked a little pale though and immediately, she felt guilty for bothering him but quickly dismissed the thought. After all, he was constantly disturbing her, regardless of whether or not the interruption was welcomed. Besides, he had a job to do. A whole gang of people to psychoanalyze and weird out. It was Jane's kind of personal heaven, wasn't it?

The gang were easy enough to locate - by the docks as they usually were. The men glared at her, automatically trying to intimidate her and were it suitable for the occasion, she'd have laughed at them. Instead of looking as fearsome as they hoped, the young men merely looked foolish and she almost felt sorry for them. They had thrown their lives away for a life on the streets and could quite easily land up in the same position as her brother. She shuddered slightly; though she had seen it several times before, it still saddened her. These young men could have done anything with their lives and instead, they wasted it on alcohol, drugs and gang culture.

The young men were typically cagey and Lisbon was surprised that Jane didn't offer - or even try - to hypnotize one of them. Most simply claimed that they hadn't spotted the perpetrator before Tommy took him (or her) on alone, those that did gave a description in the vaguest of terms. A cop, was wearing a protective vest, driving an SUV and the like. Half of the facts they gave contradicted one another too: he or she was either a blond or brunette, slim or of a larger build, petite or tall, male or female. In short, it could be pretty much anyone who was a police officer in Sacramento. At least they had all agreed on one thing: the murderer had been an officer of the law of some variety and there was probably some element of self defense involved.

But if that was the case, why had they ran? Regardless of whether or not they had been on duty, they would probably have avoided being charged, or at the very most, received a sentence of voluntary manslaughter. But they'd been protecting themselves from a known criminal, who had probably shot at them first. Though she hated thinking about her brother as being a lawbreaker, that was one of their few known facts. It wasn't exactly something she could avoid.

Feeling somewhat dejected, she left, dragging Jane away. There was absolutely no way she was leaving him alone with that gang. Who knew what kind of trouble he could get himself into if she did? Lisbon consoled herself with the fact that at least her consultant was beginning to look a bit better, beginning to brighten up a little bit. If Patrick Jane was in a foul mood, it seemed to have a habit of spreading like wildfire so it was a relief to see him looking a little bit happier.

When they got back to CBI headquarters, Jane grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to one side. She knew what he was doing, well. Sort of, anyway. He was going to ask her something he didn't want the others to hear. That meant trouble, big trouble. With a heavy sigh, she agreed anyway. There was no point in putting it off; he'd just find another way to ask if needs be. She briefly wondered why the hell he couldn't have done it earlier; they'd spent half the day alone together so it seemed strange that he'd want a quiet word with her when he'd had plenty of opportunity to do so earlier. But still, this was _Jane _she was thinking about. Since when did he do anything that made any sense whatsoever.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

Her mind was still elsewhere though. Most notably, on the growing pile of paperwork that was on her desk and thinking about her meeting with Minelli later. He wanted a progress report on the case and probably to offer to transfer it to another unit again. This case was even more personal than the McTeer one so she couldn't judge her superior for being more than a little concerned about her well-being. Especially as it was his job to be and besides, she knew better than most people just how much Minelli favored her. Half of her wished he didn't; the bias didn't always go down well with the other senior agents, but she knew the director couldn't help it. He saw it as his duty to look out for her as nobody else seemed to have the capabilities of doing so. She shook her head quickly, her dark hair fluttering across her shoulder blades. Now was not the time to be thinking about Minelli, not with Jane about to hound her for answers to obscure questions.

"Can you remember anything about the night your brother died?" Jane asked and she opened her mouth to respond but he quickly cut her off. "I mean it, Lisbon. This is worrying me."

**TBC…**


	7. Part 6

A/N: I'm beginning to think I should just give up looking for a Best Fluff Moment for the Jellies. My brain just isn't hard-wired the right way to recognise what's fluff and what's not. Well, apart from the fact my kitten is fluffy but that's not the right kind of fluff. I think. Anyway.

Thank you to: dogeatdog, autumnftw, Frogster, Jisbon4ever, Famous4it, shadow and Viktorija for reviewing part five. Especially so to dogeatdog - I'm glad you like the dichotomy. It was my main intention when writing this and to shadow, who is just amazing - both of whom logged in anonymously. I really appreciate it all!

x tromana

* * *

**Part Six**

Lisbon frowned at Jane as he finished his question. She couldn't believe what he'd just asked, especially as she'd already given him an answer to it. On the night of her brother's murder, she'd had an early night and that was all she'd done. Wasn't it? As she stormed off, she furrowed her brow slightly. Half of her was deadly certain that was what she'd done, the other half couldn't help but wonder if she was just assuming because that was what she'd generally been doing for the past two months. Once she reached her office, she tried to dismiss the thought. Thinking she was guilty of murdering her own brother was almost as ridiculous as thinking Bosco was. She'd already proven she wasn't 'that kind' of cop and there was absolutely no need for her to willingly drag her own name through the mud again.

She was fine. She wasn't forgetting things. And she absolutely wasn't going mad. Everything was okay, just like normal.

She just had a job to do, that was all. Investigating the death of her estranged brother was just like looking into any other murder. Well, except for the fact that she still hadn't told the _other _relatives of the deceased as she was stubbornly putting it off because she wanted to avoid putting them through the heartache. It may be inevitable, but she couldn't help it. They'd lost so many people already and Tommy was just another name to add to the long list of people who had let them down.

As she ambled towards Minelli's office, Jane cornered her again. Surprisingly, he didn't bother asking about that fateful night and merely asked if he could see the gang members again. Eventually, she relented, provided he took Cho with him. She couldn't see what harm it would do with her second in command there for back up. Just so long as they didn't get themselves kidnapped or shipped off to Mexico or something equally ridiculous, it should all be okay. Not only that, but it gave her a break from him and a chance to focus on other aspects of the case. Van Pelt had brought up some interesting things in his finances and his rap sheet - half of her wished she'd never found out - but if it was going to get her closer to whoever this supposed cop was who killed him, she wasn't going to complain. She wasn't even sure that was true; there was so much discrepancy between the statements of the gang and that made her fairly certain they were just making it up because they could. Better to frame a cop than to have one of their own sent to jail in their eyes, probably.

Lisbon sat in her favorite chair when she was finally granted access to Minelli's office. The director had a somewhat unreadable expression on his face and that troubled her a little. Her superior was never anything but entirely honest with her, never tried blemishing the truth in order to avoid hurting her feelings. Always direct and straight to the point. Therefore, the silence that enveloped her and his steely gaze concerned her; they were both actions she expected of Jane, not Virgil Minelli. He shifted folders from hand to hand, all the while remaining silent, as if he was still ruminating on what he needed to say to her. It was beginning to annoy her somewhat; Lisbon wanted to get on and sitting in Minelli's office while he decided the best way to say something to her was just wasting precious time.

"Boss… I…"

"You want to get on, I know," Minelli replied and narrowed his eyes a little. "There's a lot you could be getting on with."

"Yes! I have…"

"Six open cases, one of which involves a dead sibling of yours and three which you're about to testify in. It's not as if you've got a lot of time to spare. I _know_ Lisbon."

"Then why…"

Minelli held up a hand, indicating that she should stop speaking. Though she obeyed the wordless instruction, Lisbon couldn't help but feel a little bit irritated with him. He'd dragged her into his office for a conversation, wasn't letting her say her piece and was barely saying anything of any use himself. Instead, he was just going over known facts rather than bringing something new to the table. With a heavy sigh, she crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair, waiting for him to speak again. She knew he was impervious to her glare, the one that had Rigsby quaking in his boots, but that didn't stop her. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to ask and the sooner he got it over and done with, the better. But she knew Minelli better than that; he wasn't going to be rushed, regardless of her sentiments and she would just have to wait until he saw it fit to discuss it with her.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine," she replied, slightly incredulously.

Everybody seemed to be pestering her for an answer to that question and they all got exactly the same response: 'I'm fine'. Lisbon didn't know why they expected anything else. If she told herself she was fine, then she maybe she would believe she was. That was all there was to it.

"I don't believe you."

"Boss…"

"Are you sure you're up to this case?"

"Are you doubting my expertise, Sir?"

"No, of course not, Teresa," Minelli answered smoothly, furrowing his brow ever so slightly as he did so. "It's just a personal case to you. Very personal. I should never have assigned it to you and your team."

"Then why the hell did you?"

Lisbon immediately stood and strode out of the room without a second glance. She winced as the door slammed shut behind her. Realistically, she should turn back and apologize to the director for her sheer disregard of his authority and judgment, but she just couldn't bring herself to do that.

000

Jane had known she would be fairly annoyed with him repeating that question, but he thought she would at least deign it worthy of a response rather than merely storming off in a typical foul mood. If anything, that reaction confirmed his suspicions: she had absolutely no idea what she had done the night of the murder and it was troubling her. Of course she had to cover it up, like last time she was accused of murder. She didn't have an alibi and she also had a motive, therefore Lisbon was in a sticky situation. Though luckily enough for her, so far, it was all circumstantial evidence and nothing proved that she was at the scene of the crime or otherwise. She had been down to the docks to deal with the gang a little bit lately though; she'd been helping Bosco to try and solve the murder of a Fred Johnston. A tricky little case because nobody seemed to care that he was dead; if anything, several individuals seemed to gloat at his demise, though that wasn't enough to justify arrest. Also, all potential evidence seemed to have either been destroyed or compromised in one way or another. Hence the reason Bosco had asked for Lisbon's help at all.

Though Bosco receiving aid from Lisbon didn't confirm anything either. Bosco himself could have been down there, or Hicks or Martinez, or somebody else from the team. Indeed, some other crime could have been under investigation by a completely different unit or the Feds or even the local police. She could, theoretically, have done it - Lisbon was certainly capable of shooting someone to protect herself or others; Jane had seen it happen himself. It was still circumstantial though; working a specific case didn't mean anything, not these days. But that was also assuming that the gang members were telling the truth when it came to the one sole fact they agreed on: that Thomas Lisbon was shot to death by a cop.

That was why he wanted to go down there again, to talk to one of the gang members. Preferably Pierre; he seemed like he was the most impressionable and most likely to talk. Jane knew that he'd probably have to hypnotize him though and that meant Lisbon absolutely couldn't be present. Making a snap decision, he headed towards Minelli's office. If he could make the man sufficiently concerned for Lisbon's well-being, then maybe, just maybe, she'd be distracted for long enough for them to go - with or without her permission. When it came to Teresa Lisbon, Jane knew that Minelli would be easy to influence. He had more than a large soft spot for the senior agent and still felt especially guilty for accusing her of murder in the first place. That meant he felt it was his duty to protect her from any possible blows - to the extent that he would even listen to Jane. He didn't need to know that Jane suspected her of murder though, even if it was all circumstance and hunches. But Jane wanted to disprove it as well, for his own sake. The idea that Lisbon had killed one of her own family, even if it was as self-defense, wasn't that pleasant.

Minelli was predictably easy to persuade and called a meeting with Lisbon within two hours. When she was on her way to talk to the man, Jane cornered her. She looked stressed and understandably so. He wished he could help her, he really did, but until he had some answers, Jane didn't know which way to turn himself. He just hoped that Pierre - or whichever gang member they managed to corner - would offer that solace this time around.

"Lisbon!"

"What, Jane? I'm busy. Minelli wants…"

"Meh, Minelli can wait five minutes. I want to go talk to the gang again."

"Why?"

"I think I can persuade them to be a little more truthful than beforehand."

Lisbon raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Please? I'll take Cho with me."

"Fine," she replied with sagging shoulders. She must really be unhappy if she was so easy to persuade. "Just, no hypnotism, okay? I have enough on my plate without lawsuits from gangs with surprisingly powerful lawyers."

"I hear you," he replied with a grin.

It wasn't exactly a promise and Jane knew that she was experienced enough in his wicked ways to know that he wasn't going to take any notice of what she had just said. He intended to be true to his word about taking Cho though; the gang was scary and unless he had someone armed with a gun to protect him, he didn't fancy his chances at getting out alive. Knowing his luck, he'd probably uncover a key piece of information only to die because he didn't know when to shut his mouth. It wasn't exactly something he could help though; people just walked straight into his word traps and he found it too amusing to see them flounder.

Shaking his head, he walked away to find Cho. Now was not the time to think about how amusingly dense people could be, he had a job to do. And it was one that he found particularly intriguing for a change. Half of their cases were kind of like going through the motions, so it was just playing for him. This one however, of course it had an element of that in it, but because it had someone he knew deeply embroiled in it, it was completely different. Someone who, though they didn't have a clue, was ridiculously confused and desperately looking for answers, though typically, shutting themselves off from people who could help because that was all they were familiar with doing. Poor Lisbon. She really needed to learn to trust other people; she barely trusted her team and that was saying something considering how faithful they were - especially Cho.

Cho was completely submerged in some kind of form. Jane didn't recognize it; it was printed on pink paper. He was probably meant to have filled it in countless times, but had somehow avoided it through a mixture of charm and acting completely dense when it came to paperwork.

"Cho! Lisbon wants you to do something with me now."

"Is that 'Cho, I want you to do something with me and I haven't asked Lisbon yet but I think it'll be okay' or 'Cho, I want you to do something with me and I haven't asked Lisbon yet but _know_ it won't be okay'?"

"I'm hurt. You always doubt me," Jane replied with a pout. "No, she definitely wants you to come with me."

Rigsby nodded, concurring with Jane. Apparently, he'd overheard their brief conversation.

"Right. What are we meant to be doing?"

**TBC…**


	8. Part 7

**A/N:** Migraine of doom has eased up slightly and I want to make use of the time by doing more constructive stuff (like _actually_ writing) so I'll keep this brief.

Thank you to: autumnftw, Jisbon4ever, Viktorija, NnyThedemonic and shadow for reviewing the last chapter. Especially so to shadow who logged in anonymously - and the name was just a typo. Thanks!

x tromana

* * *

**Part Seven**

"Ah, Pierre," Jane spoke genially and the young man stared at him with widened eyes. "It's good to see you again. How have you been?"

"Okay… I guess," he replied with a shrug.

It was clear that he was wary of Jane, but that didn't bother the blond. Though, of course, trust would be important for the exercise he was about to carry out, so he needed to get some sooner or later. Preferably sooner, because Jane didn't fancy being there beyond sunset and besides, he had better things to do than sitting around talking to a young man who was clearly on edge. Somebody who obviously thought that by the end of the day, he was going to be arrested for the crimes he'd committed in the gang's name. They were probably extensive, though Jane didn't have a clue what they were. Besides, it wasn't his job to know. That was the responsibility of the agents he worked with, Lisbon and her team's. As she took great relish in reminding people, he was just a consultant. He was only there to give them advice and aid them in catching criminals as he saw fit. It didn't matter that he had gaping holes in his knowledge about this 'person of interest'.

In fact, as far as Jane was concerned, all the gang members were pretty much interchangeable. They could have large families, have killed people, like rock music, have a penchant for salsa dance for all he cared. All that he was interested in was what happened that fateful night when Lisbon's brother had died. If she wasn't involved, which he really wanted to be the case, he wanted answers so that she could close the case. So that she could at least get some solace in knowing that she'd done the best she could in catching her brother's killer, even if they wouldn't be charged because of their position in society. Though he'd never gotten around to asking her, he knew that the person responsible for the car crash that had tragically killed her mother had not only walked away unscathed, but had never been brought to justice. That very fact still plagued her mind and he knew that it was half the reason she decided to become a cop in the first place.

As Cho stood back in the shadows, Jane talked to the young man about nothing in particular, His hopes and dreams for the future, his family, why he joined the gang in the first place. He found the subject matter rather droll, but it didn't really matter. It got Pierre talking and that was they main thing. The more information he started freely giving, the easier it would be to put him under a light trance and get what he needed. Cho knew what he was going to do; he almost expected it in a way but didn't bother to say or do anything. Jane was grateful the agent's silence on the subject - if this got back to Lisbon, she would probably kill him, almost literally. She was adamant that hypnosis was not a useful tool and that it could get them into a serious amount of trouble and that was despite the fact it had already sort of helped her specifically out once. Cho understood that sometimes, it was an easier way to get what they needed and most people either didn't notice or didn't particularly care, especially if they weren't a suspect. Jane had a feeling that Pierre would slip into the latter category. Without the support of the rest of his gang members and since they had been chatting for a while, the young man was quite affable and happy enough to help.

Jane swiftly changed the subject and started describing one of the local beaches, all the while keeping an eye on Pierre. The man had gone into great detail about family holidays by the coast and how they had been some of the best memories of his life so Jane automatically knew that they were the ideal tool to use to hypnotize him. Pierre barely noticed and instead, listened to the blond's dulcet tones and obeyed his every instruction, much to Jane's relief. He had been somewhat concerned that he would cotton onto what he was doing and make him stop. Though Pierre seemed to trust him enough to tell him what had genuinely happened now, Jane didn't trust him not to lie for one reason or another. The trance that he was quickly falling into would remove that element of doubt and therefore mean Jane could trust whatever words the gang member said.

"How are you?" Jane asked tentatively and Pierre tilted his head ever so slightly.

"Good."

"Good, that's good," Jane muttered, glancing over to where Cho stood. "I want you to go back to two days ago. To the night when Thomas Lisbon was killed. You were friends with him, weren't you?"

"Yeah."

"You should be able to see the whole event clearly, like it's a movie in your mind. What happened that night?"

Pierre muttered something indistinctly before launching into his description of the day. Their plans for that night - taking a few drugs, drinking some beer, playing poker and the like. About how they'd been gloating about Fred Johnston's death shortly before they noticed the perpetrator. They had all known Johnston's murder was gang-related but everybody seemed to think everyone else was responsible. Jane wanted the man to hurry up, to get to the one and only detail he was interested in, but at the same time, didn't want to rush him. Pierre was making good progress and wasn't too distracted by the minor details of the day as some people could be under hypnosis.

"The cop? They're a she," he suddenly spluttered and Jane's eyes widened a little in shock. "Didn't expect that. Tom seems to recognize her, wants us to move. They kinda look alike, Tom and this cop lady."

"What did she look like, Pierre?"

"Short. Dark hair with bangs. Fierce eyes, like they could melt steel. She was angry, this woman. I don't know her, but I could tell. She was wearing a red shirt, with a protective vest. Like she expected trouble."

Jane and Cho shared a look that spoke volumes. Even under hypnosis, Pierre had just accurately described Lisbon.

"And…" Pierre continued, unaware that his audience was distracted. "I saw her again. This morning. She wanted to know about Tom. Why did she want to know? She was there; she did it."

000

Lisbon was still wound up by the time she reached her office and justifiably so. Minelli was virtually accusing her of having a breakdown and implying that she needed time off to recollect her thoughts. As if. That was the last thing she needed. If she went home, all she'd land up doing would be dwelling on her brother's death and it would eat her up from the inside. It didn't help that she hadn't tried to reconcile with him for such a long while and now she would never have the chance to. Funny, how she was the one in the right and yet still, she couldn't help but feel guilty about the whole situation.

She pulled out her cell phone and briefly fingered it. It really was about time she told her other brothers, but she didn't really have the energy. There were too many unanswered questions which she couldn't bear to face, not yet. Instead of dialing one of their numbers, as she probably should have, she slipped the small piece of technology back in her pocket. It clinked slightly against something - the unmistakable sound of plastic striking metal and immediately, she fished around in her pocket. Pulling out a couple of bullet casings, her frown deepened. How the hell did they get there and why had she kept them? They were definitely from her Glock. She was the only one in her unit who favored that model of firearm, so they couldn't be from somebody else's. Lisbon shook her head as she put them back. It was probably from the last time she went down the shooting range or something - that _must _be the explanation.

Bosco tapped lightly at her door and she ushered him in quickly. Her ex-mentor and friend swiftly closed the door behind him and sat opposite her, placing a cup of tea on her desk. He quickly justified it, stating that there had only been decaf left in the kitchenette, he didn't have the time to go out and buy coffee and Rebecca was on vacation. Lisbon didn't mind though, if anything she was in the perfect mood for tea. Much more refreshing and it was full of antioxidants. Besides it contained less caffeine and that would give her more hope of a decent night's sleep. Anyway, the drinks dilemma wasn't her biggest query as to Bosco's presence in her office, she was more interested as to why he'd decided to pay her a visit in the middle of the day, when normally he was far too busy to spend any time for social calls.

"Ah, you got me," he replied with an impish grin and Lisbon smirked in response.

Bosco was one of those terribly obvious people who found it almost impossible to keep a secret. It also didn't help his cause that Lisbon knew and understood him so well that she could see through any veiled plans of his relatively easily. Of course, she was no Jane, but that didn't mean she couldn't read people at all. In fact, a lot of her job relied on her ability to read between the lines.

"I wanted to know if you have any updates on the Johnston case. I know you've managed to talk one to one with several members of the gang. In fact I was actually wondering if you saw anything on the night your brother was killed," he said and she didn't even flinch when he mentioned it - there was no point, nothing could bring back the dead. "I know you did a stake…"

"No I didn't," she replied irritably. Everybody seemed convinced one way or another that she had been near the docks when her brother had been killed. "I stayed at home."

It was Bosco's turn for his frown to deepen. He had been convinced that she had decided to do the stakeout that night. That she had been certain the gang would make an appearance and would discuss Johnston in plain light. Not only that, but he'd tried putting her off going; he hadn't liked the idea of her willfully going to such a dangerous area of Sacramento alone, with no cover whatsoever. In fact, not only had she decided to go but she was adamant. What on earth could have put her off going, who could have broken down her resolve?

"But…"

"Maybe I meant the night after," she suggested and Bosco seemed to relax a little, deciding that that made sense. "I never got around to it though. Been distracted with my brother. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Lisbon nodded and Bosco reached over to pat her hand gently. She pulled it away, however, not in the mood for his relatively patronizing style of comfort. Sometimes, she thought he still saw her as that nervous rookie he'd hired back in San Francisco. It wouldn't surprise her, if she was entirely honest. Then again, there was something odd about the way he'd asked about her supposed stakeout, almost implying that she might have spotted somebody. Might have spotted him, even? Van Pelt had said that according to his credit card details, Tommy had apparently given a lot of the money to Cathie for 'safe-keeping' and maybe Bosco didn't approve of his sister getting embroiled in his shady dealings. Maybe she had been wrong to disregard Bosco so quickly from her investigations and she should just swallow her pride and ask.

If she was wrong, then at least it would mean she would stop having doubts about someone she was meant to admire. And if she was right, well, she'd have caught her brother's killer and finally have the answers she craved to the questions that would bother her until the case was solved. With a gentle sigh, Bosco made to leave, stating that he had already taken up too much of her free time and that no doubt she had plenty of work to be getting on with. Quickly, she caught his arm and he sat down again, obviously desperate to get out of her presence. Was that another sign of guilt, she wondered briefly. She hated being so suspicious of somebody she was meant to trust. Shaking her head and swallowing deeply, she composed herself. It was now or never.

"Sam, what were you doing the night my brother was killed?"

**TBC…**


	9. Part 8

**A/N:** Nearly finished uploading this - just 2 parts and an epilogue to go.

Thanks to: dogeatdog, Jisbon4ever, autumnftw, Viktorija and Frogster for reviewing - especially so to dogeatdog who logged in anonymously. Also to Div for betaing. I should have been saying that earlier, but I'm ill and I fail. Forgive me?

x tromana

* * *

**Part Eight**

Bosco stared at Lisbon incredulously, almost as if he was waiting for her to tell him that it was all a joke. When she returned his fierce gaze with one that was equally fiery, he realized that she was being deadly serious. With a sigh, he placed his polystyrene cup back down on her desk and sat down opposite her again. He needed to clear this up and fast; no wonder she had been so cagey around him for the past twenty four hours or so. But still, he couldn't help but feel a little insulted. Teresa Lisbon, accusing him of murdering her own brother. Sure, he made no secret of the fact he didn't like the man, but then again, neither did she. And he also knew full well how big a mistake it was to accuse a cop you respected and admired of murder. He himself felt like he still had ground to catch up on with her from a few months back. Or rather, he did, until just a few seconds ago.

"Sam…"

"I was with my wife and sister. We had a meal at Sukhothai - you know, that new Thai place. And yes, I paid by credit card if you must check it out. Then, we went and watched a DVD at Cathie's. I trust that's a good enough alibi for you, Lisbon?" Bosco queried, his tone frosty. "Or will you need Cathie to verify that?"

"Of course. She's here in half an hour to talk to Van Pelt."

"You're trusting _Van Pelt _to interview my sister?"

"She's an excellent young agent, Bosco and more than capable of talking to a person of interest on her own."

"If you say so."

"Don't be like that…"

"Let me know when you've decided to stop accusing me of crimes you know I didn't commit, Lisbon."

She watched as he slammed the door to her office shut, rather similar to the way she had reacted when Minelli had suggested she pass the case over to somebody else and implied she needed some time off. Lisbon didn't blame him though; she knew what it was like to be in his shoes. At least he had an alibi though, one which Van Pelt could verify for her within the hour. And it also meant she could stop doubting him and trust his instincts again, especially as her own were uncharacteristically letting her down. However, she would have to apologize for doing what she'd just done. She knew it would probably be best to wait until they had both cooled down a little. If she went charging after him now, it would inevitably only result in yet another argument. Instead, she decided to spend her time constructively, checking to see if Bosco's story actually checked out. Though she knew both Mandy and Cathie Bosco well enough to know they almost certainly wouldn't cover up for him, confirmation through his credit card records would go some way to easing her mind.

The rest of the day was quiet, almost too quiet. Van Pelt briefly popped her head around the door to deliver Cathie's statement, but disappeared almost as soon as she had said hello. She spent a little while typing up statements from the gang members, growing irritated at the discrepancies. Lisbon vaguely hoped that Jane's second attempt to talk to them would be more useful than the first. Then again, it was Jane, so it could bring up a whole load of nonsense until a week's time when he would launch into his supposedly glorious explanation of what he had been doing for the whole case. Still, at least he was out of her hair for the afternoon and that meant she didn't actually have to be exposed to what could probably be described as pure mayhem. She was stressed enough as it was; the solitude was doing her good.

However, it also caused her to over think things a little. Though she knew they were coincidences, how could she persuade everybody else they were just that? The flat tire, the wound on her left arm which she still hadn't dared to look at, the bullet casings… it would certainly seem as though _she_ wasn't telling the full story when it came to this specific case. And if she knew Jane well enough, she certainly wouldn't be surprised if he decided to bring it all up sooner rather than later. He'd correctly identified murderers based on far less, after all. Even something as simple as cooking with too much butter was apparently enough of a warning sign for him. Or maybe all the circumstantial evidence was too much and he wouldn't bother. Her being responsible would simply be too obvious, what with the lack of alibi and perfect alibi. Lisbon consoled herself with that fact. Jane was probably undoing the gang's lies right now and would come back and announce one of them was responsible. That they had simply tried to blame it on a nameless cop because of deep-running animosities. Unfortunately, they were answers that she was unlikely to get until the next day. Unless Cho had to make an arrest, she wasn't going to be seeing either of them until the morning.

When she arrived home, she quickly decided a soak in the bath was in order. Normally, it was a luxury she saved for the weekends, or at least, nights when she didn't have work in the morning. It had been a long day though, especially the afternoon which had been predominantly filled with arduous paperwork. That had meant that the day had gone by especially slowly and at times, it almost felt as though time had been proceeding backwards. She deserved this time to herself. Besides, the dressing on her arm was beginning to look a bit tatty and she really ought to remove it.

The water was a little hotter than she'd anticipated, but she didn't really have the energy to do anything about it. Instead, she merely stripped off and stashed her cell phone in a corner safe from splashes; Lisbon didn't like having it too far away just in case some kind of emergency arose. Eventually, she stepped into the hot water and allowed herself to sink briefly below the bubbles before coming up for air. It was only then that she remembered her arm at all and she sat up in order to peel the dressing away. It came off easily; the water having done its job and prevented it from pulling at sore skin and fine hairs. After throwing it across the room, she took the time to inspect the mystery wound.

She recognized the cause almost immediately; it was the type of wound she'd received twice before and always at work. It was unmistakably the result of a bullet, barely clipping her arm.

How the hell did she manage that?

000

Jane swiftly brought Pierre out of his trance and within seconds, the man disappeared, barely giving Jane and Cho a chance to bid him farewell. The hypnosis had clearly left him a bit disorientated and set his nerves back on edge and therefore, he couldn't wait to get out of their company. Probably because he'd just stated that their colleague and friend was guilty of murder. He clearly didn't want them to throw a barrage of questions in his direction, accusing him of mere fabrication, despite the fact Pierre knew it was the truth. Without another word, Cho and Jane headed back to the SUV, both of their minds too full of stuff to even start discussing it with one another just yet.

As he climbed into the passenger seat, Jane was actually surprised at just how much the revelation troubled him. He knew Pierre couldn't have faked the memory; the trance had been too deep for him to be able to forge a plausible net of lies to tell them. So, that meant Lisbon herself was responsible - but why couldn't she remember what had actually happened? Was she living in some kind of fantasy world where everything was fine, normal even, and the only thing that was unusual to her was the fact she was investigating the death of her younger brother? Terrible memories could easily be blanked out and that was probably what had happened, even though Jane knew that deep down, they were still there.

The problem was going to be convincing Lisbon to agree to hypnosis, when she was certain she was no more guilty of the crime than anyone else as the CBI was.

"What do we do?" Jane muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"We tell her."

Cho stated, taking the question as literally as ever. Jane turned to face him, surprised at the agent's response. He'd assumed that Cho wouldn't want to let the woman know, to try and make the case die down. To become one of those cases that never got closed, an annoying blemish on all their records. Jane had honestly thought Cho was faithful enough to Lisbon to prefer that to the alternative.

"Do we? She's half convinced herself she was fast asleep when her brother died," Jane snapped back at Cho, who flinched at his words. "It will destroy her to find out she was responsible for her brother's death!"

"Even in self-defense?"

"Especially in self-defense."

"Fine. So where do you think we go next?"

"We have to get her to reclaim the memory she's omitted. It's only then that we can move on."

Cho shrugged his shoulders and seemed to accept that Jane was talking sense. It relieved him a lot; the last thing Lisbon needed was to know that her team was losing faith in her and to start insisting that she was the killer. It needed to be dealt with sensitively and though she believed that Jane had the sensitivity of a sledgehammer, Jane knew that he was probably the best person to break it to her. After all, most of his plans required a degree of finesse, even if the cops he was surrounded by didn't see it. That was because they were usually too busy looking at the bigger picture and the fallout that followed said plans rather than the small, equally vital little details that he dealt with.

When they reached CBI headquarters, Cho quickly bid him farewell, rushed off to his own vehicle and disappeared into the night. Jane knew that he felt uncomfortable with the sketchy plan they'd come up with, probably because it was so vague but also because it wasn't just anybody they were dealing with, it was Lisbon. Jane couldn't think of her as a murderer, because he was certain she hadn't been aiming to kill. Vaguely, he recalled what Pat had said at the scene of the crime, something about how Tommy's gun had been recently fired too. That meant that it was self defense as Rigsby had later told him that the only prints on the gun were that of Tommy's, and thus, ruling out a mocked-up suicide.

Theoretically, he could have gone straight over to Lisbon's house and disturb her two nights running. He was dreading this specific conversation and therefore, it was probably better to get it over and done with as soon as feasibly possible. However, he, who was meant to be so very good with words, was at a loss as to what to actually say. It was a little difficult to appear on somebody's doorstep and say 'hi, I think you killed your brother, can I come in?' In fact, such actions were likely to make him a murder victim and Lisbon an actual murderer rather than merely acting in line with the law. Besides, even if he wasn't going to inform her of what he'd discovered, it was unlikely she would be welcoming. Despite the fact her head clearly wasn't rooted in reality, it hadn't done anything to make her any more cheerful than normal. If anything, she was more morose than ever before and that was saying something. Maybe her own, incorrect, theories were dragging her down?

Jane glanced at the higher floors of the CBI building and decided against entering it. Somehow, it felt wrong to head up there. At least he felt much better than he did that morning; the work distraction had cleared up the migraine, even if it had troubled his conscience. Instead, he headed over to his precious Citroen, climbed in and slipped the key into the ignition. Driving always helped him when it came to thinking and Jane was hoping that today would be no different. He just hoped that whatever he did to distract himself overnight and wherever he found himself, it would help him come to a firm decision as to how to approach the inevitable conversation in the morning.

**TBC…**


	10. Part 9

**A/N:** So we're coming near the end of this one too. Just after I finished _Army of Me_ as well, dammit. There's just one chapter and epilogue left to upload now.

Thank you to: shadow (thank you so much! But this is all pre-written as it was for Summer Secret Santa. I just didn't want to upload it all in one go and overwhelm people.), Frogster, Jisbon4ever, autumnftw and dogeatdog (thanks! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last) for reviewing part eight. And to Divinia Serit for betaing. It's much appreciated.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Nine**

He'd spent all night thinking and the only plausible, or at least workable, plan he could think of was to be completely up front with her. Anything else, any hint of subordination would make her throw up her defenses and would mean they landed up progressing backwards rather than forwards. Part of Jane wished he could have more subtlety in the plan, but he there was nothing else he could do. At least meeting her in her own home would mean she felt safe and secure. Lisbon would be able to rage and scream and shout without fear of embarrassment and that was the main thing. Of course, she was unlikely to believe him at first either, but he hoped he would be able to persuade her to let him hypnotize her. Lisbon had let him put her in a light trance once before, so she was likely to be more receptive to the idea now, wasn't she?

Still, when he was standing on her doorstep, he found himself shaking a little and that his palms were sweaty. Automatically, he wiped them on his pants before knocking. It took a couple of attempts before she answered, but that didn't surprise him. Lisbon was probably wondering who the hell was calling at such an unsociable hour. She certainly wouldn't be expecting him of all people, who she was due to see two hours later at work. When the door finally open, she didn't seem too disconcerted and instead, just welcomed him into her home. He needed tea, or at least something to occupy his hands with. Immediately, headed straight to her kitchen and switched on the kettle. Stifling a yawn, he pulled out two cups, keeping his hands busy and remaining in total silence. He still wasn't sure whether or not bringing it up today was such a good idea. But if he didn't, then maybe Cho would beat him to it - he couldn't trust the Asian agent and his conscience. This was information she would find hard to swallow regardless of who it came from. She merely smiled when he handed over a steaming cup of his favorite blend and Jane began to feel a little guilty. Lisbon was clearly in a very good mood and he was about to ruin it, with little choice about it either way.

This was just about as difficult as he anticipated. The silence that enveloped them was suffocating and he hated the way that he just couldn't be at ease with her, couldn't talk and bicker and tease as he normally would. If only things could still be as easy as that. Ever since his latest meeting with Pierre, he knew that it was never going to be quite the same again. Heck, he couldn't quite look at her like he used to. Would she feel the same if he murdered Red John? Jane sighed. There was no point in thinking about that, it wasn't the most important issue right now. Obviously sensing the silence, Lisbon broke it, bringing up Bosco. Jane wanted desperately to let out a hollow laugh. She was assuming that he wanted information from the Red John case and for her to get it for him. It was almost sweet, in a way, just how naïve she was. Given the opportunity, Jane would pay good money for things to be that simple though.

"What were things like, between you and Tommy?" he asked tentatively, hoping that she would actually tell the truth instead of a version clearly embellished by rose-tinted glasses.

"Alright," she replied with a shrug and he almost wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Lisbon was making no attempt to try to deceive him. "Until he joined the gang."

"That hurt, right?"

"Of course it did," she snapped.

As expected, Lisbon immediately threw up barriers the moment he mentioned the wedge that had been present between her and her brother. Clearly, she felt guilty for not forgiving him for joining the gang, though Jane knew full well that she never would have done so until he either left or died. She was expecting some wondrous Cho-like change in the man and from the bits and pieces he knew about Thomas Lisbon, Jane doubted that would have ever happened. Their rift was one that simply would not have healed what with how stubborn both sides were. It was clear that Lisbon loved her brother; she just couldn't condone his actions while he was carrying out the activities he did and therefore shunned him instead. He had a feeling it was a similar kind of reaction his mother had when she'd found out that his father had begun to teach him how to not only read people, but to fleece money out of the careless, foolish and just plain desperate.

Again, it wasn't as subtle as it could have been, but he had a feeling she would just try and distance herself further if he didn't bring it up soon. He had to mention that missing memory there and then. Lisbon's body completely stiffened as she stood and moved over to her kitchen, to place the half empty mug in her sink. The action was superfluous, merely an excuse to get away from him without resorting to kicking him out of her home. She looked a little troubled, almost as if she hated herself for simply not being able to remember one small thing.

It went from bad to worse when Lisbon realized he was essentially accusing her of murder. Immediately, she crossed her arms, holding onto her forearms tightly and shook slightly. He hadn't even brought up Pierre's revelation yet, it just didn't seem like the right time. Instead, he suggested hypnosis and automatically closed the gap between them. Gently he reached for her left shoulder, to just brush his fingers against it and offer that little bit of comfort she clearly needed.

Instead, she turned on her heels and her fist connected with his nose.

He'd always known she could pack a punch and that she'd spent years training, building up her upper body strength. Jane never envied the suspects she punched or floored in the line of duty and had often found it amusing, seeing them pinned to the ground by a woman half their size or reeling from the blow of her right fist.

Not this time, though. This time it merely hurt.

000

It was a lovely morning.

A lovely, perfectly _normal _morning.

The sun was just peeking from behind her curtains, basking her in warm light, though not too bright to cause her any discomfort. She had slept well, better than she had for a very long while and was looking forward to a good, hard day's work. Okay, so the case wasn't quite yet closed, but what with Jane having done some 'investigative' work on his own last night, she felt like they were close to making that all-important break. And then, it would only be a matter of time until they made an arrest and closed the damn thing.

Then, she would feel more comfortable telling her brothers that their sibling was dead because she would know who the bastard who was responsible for it was and could tell them too.

Lisbon stretched, relishing in the feel of certain muscles moving for the first time that day. Briefly, she glanced at her alarm clock; she had plenty of time to get ready for work. As she stood, she decided that all in all, it was likely to be a good day - nothing should be able to bring her down. Not even mystery gunshot wounds or confusing bullet casings. Sooner or later, she'd be able to work out where they came from, it was merely a matter of time. Instead, she just pushed it to the back of her mind. There was little point in worrying about it now when she had far more important things to focus on. Like her upcoming meeting with Minelli. Shortly after her bath last night, the director had called her, demanding that she dropped by his office first thing in the morning. His tone had been rather short - something else which was disconcerting - but she vowed not to let it trouble her. Lisbon had had enough woes to last a lifetime and there was no point in adding to them if she could at all help it. Besides, it was probably just a minor quibble; something that would take merely seconds to sort out. She'd probably forgotten to sign a CR2 form or something. Yes, that was more than likely to be it.

She had only just finished changing into her work clothes when she heard an incessant tapping at her front door. Frowning, Lisbon headed downstairs as quickly as possible. Visitors rarely dropped by before (or after) work, partially because she was usually so busy. She supposed it could be the deliveryman, but she wasn't expecting any parcels. The mystery person knocked again, more determinedly, clearly impatient and Lisbon eventually answered the door. When she saw it was Jane trying to knock her door down, she wasn't entirely bothered, mainly because she was in such a good mood. Jane followed her inside, remaining uncharacteristically mute and headed straight towards her kitchen and kettle. As well as she felt, he looked completely exhausted and tired. He didn't say anything to her until he had made them both a cup of tea and they were settled on their couch, both sipping at the hot liquids.

"Jane, we don't have time for this, we've got work," she muttered, realizing time was quickly slipping away. "I've got a meeting with Minelli at…"

"This is more important."

"What is?"

Lisbon watched warily as Jane placed the tea back down and suddenly, everything didn't feel as great as it did just half an hour ago. She stared at him and it didn't take her long to realize that he, Patrick Jane, was actually nervous. That was something that happened so rarely that it made her feel a little nervous too - he was only ever concerned if there was a justifiable reason to be so. She shook her head, quickly deciding there was no reason to feed off of his emotions. He was probably overreacting about something. Maybe Bosco wasn't telling him something about the Red John case and wanted to use her and her links to the man to try and coerce it out of him? That would explain the early morning visit, before she even had a chance to see Bosco.

"If you want me to talk to Bosco about…"

"This isn't about Bosco."

"What?"

He immediately followed up by asking about her brother and Lisbon knew she should have expected that. Jane didn't do anything without ulterior motives. She didn't like it when Jane started needling her for unnecessary information though. She'd honestly thought that he'd learned the meaning of the word 'boundaries' and it always saddened her whenever she found that he failed to meet her expectations. It was frustrating as well; she'd thought that since he'd started working with her team (with her) that he'd learned to become a better person. Also, that he'd given up on his thankless quest to kill Red John. The disappointment that things hadn't changed never really got any easier.

"You never answered me," he started lightly and Lisbon automatically knew the sentence could only end badly. "Do you really remember what happened on the night your brother died?"

She stood and quickly strode over to her kitchen. Though it made little difference and Lisbon knew he could quite easily follow her, it felt better to put the distance between them. Like the barrier of air could protect her from his insistent barrage of questions.

"You don't, do you?"

She shook her head.

"I think, that maybe…"

"I'm responsible?" she hissed, anger flashing in her eyes. "That's why you're here, isn't it? Cornering me somewhere I supposedly feel safe and secure rather than at work?"

And yet, she knew he was talking sense, but he wasn't. How could he be? She wasn't a murderer. She didn't kill people and certainly not her own brother. But he was right, it all slotted together so neatly, like a jigsaw puzzle

Missing one piece.

Her memory.

It scared her, not remembering stuff.

She'd seen it before, in her father.

Taken every step feasibly possible to avoid turning into him.

Obviously, fate was playing a cruel game and whatever happened, she was doomed to be like him. What was it they said? That the apple never fell far from the tree?

Her Dad hadn't just been a drunk after her Mom's death.

He'd gone completely mad.

Was that what was happening to her now? Minus the alcohol abuse?

Was she just wearing a façade, one that only Patrick Jane could see through?

She shook her head. That was absolute nonsense. She was fine.

She. Was. Fine.

"Maybe if we just put you in a light trance, then…"

There was a crack as her fist came into contact with his nose. Milliseconds later, blood was pouring down his face and he threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly in attempt to stem the flow.

Obviously not such a lovely morning anymore.

**TBC…**


	11. Part 10

**A/N** This is the final 'proper' part - just an epilogue to go. And this is also the part which makes it definitely an AU. I wasn't (and I'm still not, despite having written it well over a month ago) completely sure of this, but boutondor and my beta, Divinia Serit, were both happy with this so it stuck.

Thank you to: dogeatdog, Frogster, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever and shadow for reviewing part nine. I appreciate it so much. Especially so to dogeatdog and shadow, who both signed in anonymously and therefore I couldn't reply personally. Both your reviews mean the world to me and I'm incredibly grateful.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Ten**

She was still shaking slightly when Jane finally found her. His bloody nose had finally stopped spouting red liquid, but it didn't stop him from looking a mess. Lisbon hadn't meant to take flight, but she honestly hadn't known what else to do; it was clear she couldn't trust herself anymore. The moment he opened the door to her closet, she thrust her guns - both the one she carried around with herself on the job and her off-duty weapon - into his unsuspecting hands and for half a second he didn't know what to do with them. Eventually, she watched as he nervously placed them on her bed, clearly scared that they might just go off at any second. Were she feeling more herself, Lisbon would have laughed at his tentative nature with the firearms; they were not bombs, after all, and required a lot more effort for them to become dangerous. A psychotic mind being one of them.

Like hers.

All she wanted to do was hurt herself. Like she'd hurt so many people before now. It didn't matter that half of them had already become killers; they could have reformed, theoretically. They could have been saved from themselves.

Her brother was just another name in a long list. And she couldn't even remember it.

People would just forget that. Say he had it coming. Claim she was merely defending herself.

Anything to justify it away into neat little boxes and let her - a murderer - carry on roaming the streets, armed. Free to strike again, to kill some unsuspecting victim and say that she was 'protecting other people'.

From whom, exactly?

It was them who needed protecting.

From her.

Who watched the watchmen?

She couldn't do it anymore, she had to take a stand. The pills on her dressing table had looked all too tempting and that was why she hid herself in her closet, simply so she couldn't see them anymore. So she wouldn't just take them and eat them like candy. That would have been a bad thing to do. Lisbon knew that; it was something her Mommy had told her when she was little and she still remembered to this day. But it was hard, just seeing them sitting there and she needed to get away from them. To a better place. To somewhere where they could control the pills so they could do their job rather than having her swallow them in a way her Mom would never have approved of. She wanted to make her happy and knew she had done bad.

Now she just had to explain that to Patrick Jane.

"Are you okay, Lisbon?" he asked tentatively.

"Don't call me that."

"What, Lisbon?"

She nodded.

"Okay. Fine. Is there anything I can do for you, Teresa?"

"Yes. Get rid of my guns. And… and… I need help."

"That's what I'm here for."

"No, no. I can't remember."

Patrick frowned and she knew that she wasn't making much sense to him. She still hadn't moved from her curled up position in her closet, but she didn't care. Lisbon wasn't going to move until he understood what she wanted and they were on the move.

"I can help you with that."

"No, _medical _help."

"Isn't that a bit of a… rash decision?" he queried, obviously making the connection.

Lisbon shook her head furiously. Of all the people in the world, she'd assumed that Patrick would understand. One thing her frazzled mind could remember was a discussion with him. It felt like it happened forever ago, but it kept replaying in her mind. How he'd told her he'd sought out help after his breakdown, how he'd kept it hidden out of sheer embarrassment. Well, she didn't quite get the embarrassment, but she understood the terror. The sooner she was with people who could help her, the better.

"Okay, I get you," he muttered, straightening up. "I'll be five minutes. You… you just stay put."

Patrick was true to his word and when he returned, cleaned up a little, she finally had the confidence to leave her comfortable little hole. Within the hour, they were on the road and she felt torn. Her heart was still thumping in her chest, feeling like it was playing out the bass line of a particularly frenetic rock song and yet, with Patrick at her side, she felt calm. At least, calmer than she had in a while. What was it she'd been doing yesterday? She shook her head; she couldn't even remember that anymore. All she could remember properly was that she'd been a cop, in charge of her own team. What they specialized in was beyond her. But still, they'd worry. Having their… their boss, she supposed… disappear into thin air. It would be rather odd, at least.

"Promise me one thing?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell the others. Just say I quit… because of my brother."

He nodded and satisfied, she settled back into the seat, fingering at the straps of the bag she'd insisted upon packing. There wasn't much in there, just a few clothes, her toothbrush and the locket her mother had given her when she was seven. But she'd need the stuff when she was at… wherever she was going, wouldn't she? Patrick hadn't told her but he seemed to know exactly where he was taking her. That was okay though; she trusted him. Right now, she'd trust him with her life if it came down to it.

"We're here."

Nodding, Lisbon slipped out of the car. She didn't really have the energy to focus on her surroundings. It had been a rather exhausting morning, but she didn't quite know why. Remaining mute, she followed Patrick to the reception of the building, where he asked to see a Sophie Miller. The name was vaguely familiar, but again, she wasn't sure why. That was frustrating. It seemed as time progressed, the less tangible everything became and the only things she had confidence in were things in the immediate vicinity. Her bag, this Sophie Miller person, Patrick, who remained steadfast by her side.

A blonde woman appeared, wearing a genial smile. She whispered quickly to Patrick and then addressed her. Lisbon suddenly felt very small as Sophie asked her to follow her. It felt too early to be leaving him, he'd, he'd been so good to her. And it was making him upset too, he was even crying. But Sophie was so insistent that she followed her, so Lisbon did. It felt like the right thing to do and she was at a loss as to anything else she could do now. The walls were an olive green. They made her feel more sick, not better. She quickly crossed her fingers as she laid down on the bed with threadbare sheets in the room offered to her. This was the right decision, wasn't it? It had to be. She didn't really _know_ anything else now.

000

Jane would be lying if he said he said that Lisbon's request hadn't taken him off guard. He remembered the pain and agony that he'd gone through when deciding whether or not to have himself committed. Then again, at that time, he also didn't have a strong network of people around him. Everybody he knew was either semi-celebrities, just feeding off one another's fame to try and get that little bit more popular or clientele. Not exactly the best support to have when you were in the middle of a mental breakdown. He hated thinking about that time of his life and tried to dismiss the thought. Jane shook his head slightly. It wasn't exactly easy to do and he had a feeling it was only going to get harder until Lisbon was completely better, back to her old self and ready to take on the world again.

Then again, Lisbon was probably the last person in the world he'd expected to suffer from one. She always seemed so strong, so self-assured, like nothing could break her. Of course, he'd been wrong. Nobody was infallible, not even Lisbon, and clearly this was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. He cursed quietly at his self as he mopped up the blood, revealing the sign of some bruising. If only he'd noticed sooner, then maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to stop this from happening. It wasn't as if he was completely inexperienced when it came to mental breakdowns, after all.

With a sigh, he pulled out his cell phone, deciding to call the one person he trusted with this kind of matter. He'd promised himself never to call her again, that her debt had been repaid in full when they had stopped her from being falsely arrested for murder. But Sophie Miller had decided, because of that, that research wasn't for her and that she would go back to practicing. She would be able to help Lisbon, drag her kicking and screaming out of this state, comfort her when needs be. Sophie was pretty much a miracle worker; she'd (pretty much) saved him from himself, so therefore, Jane knew she could do exactly the same thing with Lisbon. And Lisbon was more than worth 'owing' somebody over. Since his release from hospital, she'd helped him so much, as much, or if not, more than Sophie had done. That was why she deserved the best and she was sure as hell going to get it, regardless of how much it cost Jane personally. Money was just money; he still had far too much of it anyway. As for another personal debt, well he owed so many people so many different things, another one wouldn't make all that much difference.

Sophie was in good spirits, albeit very surprised to hear from Jane. However, she listened to his request, was equally surprised to hear about the fiery brunette's predicament, but agreed to help anyway. Feeling a little relieved, Jane returned to Lisbon's bedroom, where she remained huddled in her closet. She looked so small, so tiny and the way she shied away from him seemed as though she was trying to escape to a fantasy world where everything was perfect, or at least the same but a little bit different. But there was no Narnia in there and no merry old land of Oz either. Instead, she had a doctor to meet, somebody who could bring her firmly back to reality.

It took longer than he expected to get her into the car. She was still surprisingly stubborn, insistent on taking a night bag with her. Jane smirked; it was rather amusing to think that even with how she was right now, she still had to be terribly organized. Lisbon settled in the car, napping occasionally on the journey. In a now-rare moment of lucidity, she requested that he didn't tell the team the whole truth, something that he took to heart. Jane cared deeply about her and she deserved the utmost respect, though he hadn't always shown it in ways she would have approved of.

Though he had been trying to mentally prepare himself for it throughout the journey, he still wasn't ready to leave her behind. It was agony, seeing her meekly follow Sophie Miller through those double doors. He had no idea when he would see her again; Sophie promised him she would call as soon as Lisbon was ready to take visitors. Until then, he just had to rely on his memories and right at that very moment, all he could think of were the bad. It didn't help either that he vaguely knew what she was going to go through, though every case was different. Jane offered a quiet prayer, to a God he didn't believe in, though she did, asking for a swift recovery. It was the last thing of use that he could to do at that moment.

He headed straight back to the CBI headquarters, remembering that it would be incredibly odd that neither he nor Lisbon had turned up to work. Especially so as they were in the middle of an important case, or at least, important to them. Maybe Cho would have said something, covered for him. He hoped he had. If he were in Cho's shoes, he'd say that they'd gone to do some early morning investigating and had probably got caught up somewhere. Then again, Cho was pathologically honest, so the others might already know she was responsible for her brother's death.

Cho was the first person he saw when he arrived. He was getting something out of his car as Jane parked up. Jane jogged over and Cho raised a quizzical eyebrow, intrigued by his lateness and the fact his boss hadn't turned up for work either.

"Where's Lisbon?" Cho demanded and Jane took a couple of steps back. "I assume you told her."

"Yeah. She's taking a break from work."

"Makes sense," he answered and Jane breathed a sigh of relief. "Though we'll still have to talk to her about the case."

Wordlessly, Cho and Jane walked upstairs together, taking the staircase as the elevator was broken and awaiting repairs. Jane glanced at Cho; had he already worked out that he was omitting major details. All he wanted to do was sleep now; the events of the past twenty four hours had been terribly draining.

"Is Lisbon okay?" Van Pelt demanded and Rigsby nodded in concurrence. "It's weird for her not to come into work. I hope she's…"

"She's gone away for awhile," Jane replied dully, knowing it was bending the truth to the highest degree. "It's because of Tommy. She needs a little time to herself."

"Oh, okay," Van Pelt said with a shrug. "I'd do the same if I were her."

Jane nodded and laid back on his couch. At least they seemed to be accepting of what he'd said. Though Cho's statement was already troubling him. There was only so long he would be able to stall them from finding out about what happened to her.

But he was sure as hell going to try.

**TBC…**


	12. Epilogue

**A/N:** And here's the epilogue. Also, because it seems it requires very little for me to take the hint and go write something else, there will be a sequel to this, entitled (somewhat cornily) _Over the Rainbow_. Hey, I wanted to keep the Oz theme going with the titles, okay?

Thank you to: dogeatdog, Viktorija, Frogster, Jisbon4ever, autumnftw, shadow and Famous4it for reviewing part ten. Especially so to dogeatdog and shadow, both of whom logged in anonymously. Also to Divinia Serit who beta'd this whole fic despite being overwhelmingly busy. It's all much appreciated.

x tromana

* * *

**Epilogue**

And this was what Teresa Lisbon desperately needed to remember:

It was cold that night and she was nibbling at her bottom lip. A nasty little quirk but one she somehow always slipped into whenever she was nervous.

She hated being around the docks, especially at night. It reminded her too much of her youngest brother, Thomas Lisbon. She knew this was his gang's haunt and explicitly went out of her way to avoid it. Lisbon didn't need reminding of her failures as an eldest sibling regularly. Tommy was at the very top of a long list of things that she'd stuffed up one way or another.

But she had to be here - it was work related. Or at least, that was what she kept telling herself. They were observing the gang, Tommy's gang, trying to find out who the murderer of Fred Johnston was. She was determined to get the answer, simply because it was her job to do so. And there was no way she was asking Patrick Jane for help either; she didn't need him to show her how to do her job. This was one case she was going to solve without him. Especially as Bosco had asked _her_ for help, not Jane.

Though she needn't have agreed to help him with the case at all.

Damn her principles.

In between lip nibbles, she sipped at a latte. It was over two hours old now and pretty unpleasant, but she didn't have anything better to do than drinking it. Not until the gang turned up anyway and then, who knew what was going to happen?

Her eyes widened when she first heard the sound of approaching footsteps and then spotted a mass of people emerging from the shadows. This was what she had been waiting for. Without a second thought, she exited the vehicle. She needed to hear what they were saying if she had any chance of salvaging something of use from this otherwise wasted night.

When Tommy not only announced, but bragged about the fact he was the one to 'do in' Fred Johnston, Lisbon's hand was already at her hip and she had already partially drawn her firearm.

She needed the gang to disappear, but she knew Tommy had spotted and recognized her. Lisbon fired a shot, explicitly aiming away from anyone and anything where the bullet could do serious harm. As she expected, everyone fled barring Tommy. That was good. He was the one she needed to talk to - for more than one reason.

Tommy looked completely bemused to see her, of all people, standing in front of him. He stepped closer, sizing up his older sister. He'd taken after their father, a tall, stocky man whereas she had always been small and slender like their mother.

Lisbon dragged her eyes away from her brother for half a second. Just a gull, scavenging for food in the docks. Nothing for her to worry about. When she looked directly at Tommy again, he was pointing a gun at her.

That made things more equal, though she had hoped that family ties would mean he wouldn't cause trouble.

She was horrified when he fired his first shot, piercing the tire of her car. Obviously, he wasn't messing around.

And she knew that he was about to do it again, hence the reason she fired too.

After all, it was a case of kill or be killed.

Tommy's second bullet grazed her arm and she didn't even notice because she was too busy staring at him. At what _she_ had done.

Normally, after spotting a gunshot victim, she would take the time to check the pulse points, for signs of survival. There was no point though. Her training meant that her bullet had found its target and he had died on impact.

Running on automatic, she picked up the bullet cases and shoved them in her left pocket. Then, she climbed into her car, started the engine and sped off, completely forgetting about the flat tire and the fact she had been there to gather information on the murder of Fred Johnston.

She fled, not because she was guilty of murdering in the eyes of the law - she'd merely been defending herself - and that was easily proven. No court would convict her.

It was because all she could see was herself, as an elder sibling, killing her brother when she should have been protecting him instead.

end


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